Between Worlds: The Madness of One
by lisa.ryanz1oh1
Summary: AU Harry! Dark! Powerful! Power! He still has his humanity but someone will have to recognize it to make him believe he's still capable of being good. Harry has creature forms and abilities. Watch out when the Magic and Muggle worlds collide. Story will be General. No Slash!
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1 – In the beginning …**

The world has always been a strange place. Plants and trees spring out of the ground in the middle of a desert surrounding a pool of fresh water. Lizards live in the fire. Fishes have their own lantern to guide their way in the deep of the oceans. A funny looking two-legged animal exists on the good brown earth with a penchant for settling and building and reordering things in the hierarchy of the world.

The sensible creatures stay away from these bipeds. They can smell a bad thing and know when to keep a safe distance. Only, they don't know that the biped has a bad habit of following them. They are not safe anywhere. So, the animals learnt to evolve. They learnt to hide and to adapt. Some learn camouflage, others to survive in the night, and yet others in the cold. Some decided to go away to a different part of the earth while the bipeds were asleep. They stayed hidden in far corners of the world, growing and expanding their own families, occasionally venturing out to learn what they could of the state of other animals and to get news of the strange creature.

Things had been progressing in this manner for many centuries, with both the animals and the bipeds learning, growing and developing and at rare times crossing the others' paths, often with great harm to the other. But all this while, there was something else that was stirring in the core of the world. Something that changed the nature of the earth and the air and the water. It changed some of the animals and some of the birds and created many others. It made a new world.

The older animals welcome the new varieties and showed them how they lived, giving them a fair area for their own kind. And as they had taught their children to stay away from the strange bipeds, so they taught the new arrivals. They told them the history of the old world, and of the earth; they told them of the avarice of the bipeds and its greedy power; they told them of their loved ones, lost to the persistence of the only creatures in the world that used two legs instead of four. They spoke of hate and flight, of the search for safe lands. And lastly they spoke of the peace they had kept by staying away from the cruel nature of the strange creatures.

They new ones heard all that their kin told them and agreed to the wisdom of the old ones. They agreed to hide away as soon as possible, promising to keep in touch.

But these hopes were as weak as hoping that the fire in the earth would not burn the green above when it flowed like water. For the bipeds had seen them and the thirst for power over these new amazing creatures ran strong within their breasts. But the lack of regular food supplies had changed the minds of this primitive race. They had grown sharper and stronger and while the males were more aggressive than the females, all were equally intelligent, had they known what the word meant. They had even acquired a language and could speak, though they often found that there was nothing for them to say, since the entire clan already knew what one knew. And they called themselves Men.

And so on this day that the spies had found out about the new animals, they followed them to their new lairs and then rushed back to tell the others what they had seen and learnt. They told of small animals that talked in a sing-song voice and big ones that had shiny skin like the sun in the sky. There was even one that looked like them, but had four legs. And they were all of all colors.

Hearing this strange tale in a land already strange, the males arranged a war party of fighting men called Warriors to go after these new animals and bring back fresh meat and maybe even capture one or two. They picked up their bows and arrows and hefted tall spears, taking with them skins of water and slices of dried meat and some breads for they provisions. They brought out the big chariots that they had learnt to build and set out. As they left their camps, big shaggy wild dogs accompanied them and the entire party followed one of the scouts out across the wilds.

After travelling many leagues, they finally found the new creatures that had proved to be quite elusive. Hiding within the large forests, the men could often spot a glimmer of color or a swift shadow moving away from them. This did not worry them and the excitement of the chase overtook their minds. Only two of that war party remained unaffected.

When they were tired, they decided to set up camp under two large trees and set about their work. The chariots were arranged around them for added protection and they arranged their bedding around the fire for warmth. But it was then that their scout saw what they were looking for, not too far away from where they wanted to rest for the night. The warriors were pleased to find this creature, for this one alone was as big as the hills and would provide good food for a long time. For all their stealth, however, when they got near the creature, they realized that they were being watched.

Towering high above them was a long sinuous neck glittering in the light of the moon. Even brighter than its skin shone the eyes of the creature as it looked down at the camp of the puny weak creatures that had tracked it. The warriors armed themselves and rushed towards the body, shouting encouragement to each other.

Their ambition was short-lived. A huge, powerful foot with scales like a fish stomped down on half the war party. Their fellows stared in shock but turned towards the creature with caution. No-one ever said that men were the smartest of creatures in the world. The second and third rush decimated the warriors' ranks as swiftly as the first, so that only a few remained. These took the last remaining chariot and fled the forest at once. But on the fringe of the forest were waiting more strange creatures that had the upper body of a man but the lower body of a horse and these creatures killed them without hesitation.

However, there were two of that party who still remained alive. One was the scout who was only a spy and not a warrior. Throughout the fight he had stayed hidden behind the trunk of a huge tree, hoping to escape the eye of the huge beast, and now waited with a hammering heart and bated breath for the creature to leave so he could slip away.

The other was one who was a warrior and yet not a warrior. As she lay on the ground, this lone female who had journeyed for the slaying was different from her kind. She was not weak or easily cowed. She was strong and courageous and was responsible for the dogs that the men used in battle. She had trained them and they listened only to her. She had offered the services of her dogs to the warriors, which was approved. But in return she had asked to be trained as a warrior like the men and to accompany them when they went for war.

The community had been scandalized, much less than the men with whom she trained, and her mother had wept over her decision for days, beseeching her daughter to reconsider and settle down like her sisters had. But she girl had a level head on her shoulders and her father supported her training. And now she was lying on the forest floor, surrounded by her dogs, scanning for any survivors.

Just as she found the scout behind the tree, her dogs growled, hackles raised and menacing the creature that moved into the light cast by the last embers of the fire. It approached on cloven feet, steeping surely on the ground. The female rose and found herself facing a female body that joined onto the body of a horse. This caused the creature to tower over her a bit, but she raised her chin, refusing to be intimidated.

The creature smiled. "My name is Viska, the Watcher of my people. And these forests are under the protection of my people."

"Your people?" asked the human female.

"Yes. I am a Centaur. And my friend over there is Lyseskalaer of the Dragons. Welcome to the Forbidden Forest."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 – The Bestowed**

In the years to come, many would forget the names of Sarala and Darius. Relegated to the forgotten pages of their history, only the old wives would pass on those old tales from generation to generation on young ones. Stories and legends were the only places where these two Chosen Ones were still remembered. Men and women alike grew up dreaming of being strong like Sarala and fast and invisible like Darius. But as the years grew longer, people forgot them and what they had stood for.

For 300 years, Sarala and Darius had lived in two worlds. The world of men that was of their birth. And the world of the Centaurs of the Forbidden Forest. They had been taught the truth about Life and the value of peace for peace's sake. Trained in the art of Warfare and Combat as well as Diplomacy and Politics, these two were the Voice of Reason in many Kingdoms across the lands. But they were more commonly known as Dragon Knights.

Lyseskalaer had become fast friends with Sarala and her mate consented to bear Darius while on visits to far outlying lands or over the seas. All the while they learnt of the existence of Magicke. Magicke was the essence of life for all the new creatures that had appeared in this world. It sustained them as much as regular food and aided them in several ways when they had to hide or maybe locate something. But this Magicke was also available to any other race that knew or learnt how to hold it and mould it to their will.

Sarala and Darius proved to be good students of Magicke. They were taught by representatives of several kinds of creatures to help them understand just how Magicke was used by them. With Magicke settled in their bodies, the humans often exclaimed over the delight of feeling the Magicke coursing through them. Their experiments started small, from lifting rocks to make a structure to drawing things of thin air. Sarala became more comfortable and proficient with the art and practiced constantly, getting stronger and stronger all the while. She even observed to Lyseskalaer one day that Magicke was much like a muscle that required regular practice to keep it in shape.

Though their life-spans had been expanded beyond their normal limits by the oldest of Dragons to help them learn all they could, the humans knew they were still mortal and they were growing older every day. Kingdoms jealous of their power tried to have them assassinated, but their Magicke and their animal friends protected them from these vicious attacks. They knew that they would not last forever though and this saddened them.

The Dragons were regarded as the wisest of the creatures on earth, unless it was the Phoenixes. Both species had long lives and certain kinds of them were immortal. Thus the Old One had the wisdom of his race through many centuries of living even before they came to this young world. Sarala and Darius had never seen him until the day he sent for them.

An enoromous white dragon, his pure white scales glittering in the bright sunlight lay on an immense green carpet. Flowers bloomed around him, dancing in the breeze, s he lay with hid mighty head resting on his front legs. A little bird was perched on the horn over his right eye, its head cocked to the side as it scrutinized the humans. With a shrill whistle, it woke the dragon.

"Welcome children," rumbled the old dragon. The humans stared at him in stunned surprise. The dragon was almost the size of a mountain. His back rose high with its crest of spines glinting sharply in the bright light. His scales glimmered as he shifted his body to sit on his belly, he head still on his forelegs. He opened his eyes, an electric blue with a slit gold pupil stared at them. "My name is Feher Bator. As the oldest dragon still living, they have made me their leader, though I am no more than an Elder of the tribe." One giant eye winked at them. "I wish to speak to you, however, about the future."

"What troubles you, Old One?" asked Darius.

The dragon sighed. "Our time runs short, younglings, as does your own. You must choose a mate to carry forward the future of Magicke in this land."

"And what of myself, Old One?" queried Sarala.

"You, dear one, will be the first Dragon Priestess. We have taught you our tongue, and so you must teach it to other female humans whom you deem worthy of the role. Lyseskalaer will aid you in this. Your own child may also be a Chosen One, should the Dragons so choose."

"Why should we do this?" asked Darius after sharing a long glance with Sarala.

"The world is changing quickly young ones. Soon even the memory of our races will be forgotten. But there is yet time to aid the future by starting now. Many years shall pass before the fruit of your labors will be apparent, but Magicke will find a way. Teach your younglings to respect all races and the world may yet survive what may come." He shifted his head closer to the humans and tapped them on the head lightly with his snout. "The blessing of this Old One rides with you. Now go."

Dazed by the expectation laid on them, Darius and Sarala left the clearing and returned to their tree dwelling. Lyseskalaer stuck her head in the window. "So?" she asked, her velvet voice rough from the meal she had just consumed.

"He has told us to Mate," offered Sarala bluntly.

Lyseskalaer blinked, her scaly eyelid casting a shimmer inside the tree-room. "Is not that a good thing? Humans have been propagating their race for hundreds of years, you know this. why then not you as well?"

"I am to be a Dragon Priestess and Darius' child will carry forward the line of Magicke among humans. My child will follow in my path. How do I even begin to find a suitable Mate for something so important, Lysa?"

"Well, there's always each other. Aelthilion was my best friend in our youth. It was the easiest decision to make."

Darius and Sarala gave each other a long look. And broke into gales of laughter, rocking where they sat. Darius rolled out of his hammock and fell with a thump on the wood floor, still laughing. Lyseskalaer looked on in pure bewilderment. Having never had the chance to see humans laughing before, this was quite the experience. Especially with theses two normally proud, serious humans. She cleared her throat loudly.

The humans jumped at the growl and managed to contain themselves, coughing and reaching for glasses of water. "Sorry Lysa. It just hit us that this might be the answer after all. We never thought about each other that way before. Thank you for your advice."

"You are both welcome. I shall be going now to see my Finrelle. She's quite adventurous," said the young mother with a sort of despairing pride.

Sarala smiled. "Our wishes go with her."

Lyseskalaer nodded once, her sinuous neck bending gracefully, and she walked off towards her cave. In the tree-house meanwhile, Darius asked Sarala to be his wife after the customs of humans. She agreed and within a year was born one of the first magical children of the world and he was blessed by the Dragons.

His parents named him Emrys, but by Feher Bator he was named Myrddin.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 – When the Alarm rings …**

Thank you everyone for your reviews. **S. Rune**, Harry will be dark/powerful, but I don't really envision him as the enemy. And 'was Phoenixes' sounded better to me.

Moving on ….. Next chapter up soon!

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RRRRIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNGGG!

Jerked out of his pleasant day-dream by the persistent, shrill school bell signaling the end of the day's classes, the little boy shifted uneasily in his seat when he saw that his preoccupation with the story had been noted by another boy. He was sure that his relatives would be notified of it as soon as the other boy was within shouting range of his mother.

There was nothing wrong with daydreaming as such. But daydreaming about dragons and magic and flying was a subject that called for strict disciplining from his family. Judging by the malicious look on his cousin's face, he was glad he hadn't eaten his meager lunch yet. He would at least have that when he was in his cupboard. But the story had seemed so real. And Miss Anne was a good storyteller.

He'd even had dreams about giants with flying motorcycles until he'd been starved out of them. And when his own avid scrutiny of the area's bikers did not reveal any familiar hint about the mysterious flying biker, he had stopped mentioning it at all.

And then there was his 'freakiness' in general. Jumping onto the school roof, turning his teacher's wig blue, turning a school corridor to ice., growing his hair back. Hr didn't know what to make of any of it though his relatives seemed to know. His only supporters seemed to be that curious cat lady down the street and the storytelling teacher, Miss Anne. They sometimes had small talks about the magic stories during recess. He figured Miss Anne was a freak too, though he doubted she had to live under the stairs. She was too big after all.

These story hour came to an abrupt and however, when the Dudley snitched to his parents about the stories and Harry's particular interest in them. Turning red and purple in all shades, Uncle Dursley met with the Principal of the school and had the "overly distracting, unrealistic" material removed from reading hour, shifting to other stories that did not seem to incite much wrath. Harry was sad at the loss though not at the lecture he got from his Uncle about his freakiness. But when Miss Anne called him to her room during his free hour before recess to read and share idea and compare notes on the old magic stories, Harry was overjoyed. He was afraid though, that his relatives would find out about his new class, but Miss Anne told him not to worry.

One morning Miss Anne held up several strips of rectangular paper that had something scribbled on them. "Can you guess what these are, Harry?" When he shook his head in the negative she replied, "These are charms, Harry. Watch."

She slapped one of the slips of paper on the door, which flashed a solid red as the charm took hold. Another put just below it turned the door blue for a few seconds. Then she went around putting those charms on all the walls of the room, each of them flashing blue until she returned to the door. As Harry watched, gaping at the colors he could see, the entire room shone green for a few seconds before the light died down. Everything looked normal except for those slips of paper all around the room.

"Wha – what are they?" gasped Harry.

"They are a kind of Oriental magic. Very handy to keep around, and they don't require the user to have any magic at all. The magic in entirely in the charms themselves. They activate when put up on any surface that we want to protect." Miss Anne gave the confused Harry a significant smile and continued, "The charms I just put up make the door impervious to outside manipulation and the entire room sound proof. The green light at the end just means that the circle of the charms was complete and that it was perfectly safe."

"Where did you get them, Ma'am?" asked Harry, shock turning slowly to curiosity.

"I got them from a little old lady I know who is a witch," winked the teacher conspiratorially.

"But … but I thought that was only in the stories! I didn't think it was real!" Harry exclaimed, extremely nonplussed at the unfolding events.

"My dear boy, hasn't today's demonstration shown you that at least some of the stories are true?" Miss Anne smiled. "Now, what do you think happened to our Myrddin? He was what we now call a Wizard, the very first Wizard of the world. There are ever so many stories about him these days. But the amazing thing is, it is only in the non-magic stories that the long-forgotten legends are still remembered. Magic users remember him very differently and what they know can definitely add to our own knowledge, but it is thanks to written accounts like the one I have been reading out to you, that we know as much as we do about the great Merlin."

Harry's green eyes widened behind their glasses, and he began to feel an excitement course through him at the name of the great wizard. The boy literally shone with it. Miss Anne looked on in approval. The first step had been made.

H~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~P

(A.N.: I'm going by the Avengers movie assumption that Tony Stark was born in 1971 which would make him 9 years older than Harry Potter. And at this time, while Harry is 5, in kindergarten on the verge of going to pre-school, young Tony is 14 and has already shown prodigy aptitudes and is helping his father at Stark Industries before he joins up at MIT. Not going there though. This is just a background)

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"What have you got there son?" called Howard Stark when he saw his son sitting on the floor with an array of tools and electrical paraphernalia around him. Anthony Edward "Tony" Stark looked up at his father with a grin. "Just tinkering, Dad."

"Allright. As long as you don't tinker with the dishwasher again. I don't think your mother got over the shock of the thing activating to human proximity." Howard walked into the walk-in closet and waited as the robots helped him change into evening clothes.

"Gotcha, Dad! Don't scare Mom." Tony winked at his father and gathered up his toys. "Where are you going today?"

"Obie's got us invited to some upscale charity event downtown. I don't know why he subjects me to these things, but your Mum likes the parties. So, we go." Howard emerged from the closet dressed in a smart black dinner jacket and vest with a crisp white shirt and deep burgundy tie. "How do I look?"

"Smart as always, Dad. You're my hero!" chuckled the boy as his father sicced the home robot on him. "Hey! You do know I figured out how to overwrite the command programs for Rosie a while ago, don't you?"

His father shrugged. "Yeah, so? I changed the programs last night."

Tony ran from the room looking for one of his short range EMP generators. Locating one of his new prototypes, he turned at activated the gadget that was small enough to fit in his hand. Rosie stopped moving at once. He laughed at his father. "That was fun."

"Indeed." Howard stepped up to greet his wife Maria as she descended from the sweeping staircase. "Now stay out of trouble and stay out of the basement. I mean it Tony. And you better have a paper on that EMP modulator ready for me when we get back. We should be back by midnight." Father and son shared a hug before Maria enfolded her son in her arms. Tony kissed her on her cheek and stepped back. "You look beautiful, Mum. Have fun, you guys!"

The elder Starks waved to Tony before ducking into the custom armored limousine that was their ride to the charity fundraiser for the Mayor's electoral campaign. Maria was always very active in the charity committees which she saw as a sort of balance for the destructive inventions of her husband. But despite the company's advancement into the weapons and ammunitions field, the family life was happy, balanced and well-settled and both Howard and Maria were determined to give Tony as much of a normal life as was possible for a multimillionaire's prodigy child.

A prodigy who was presently snooping around in his father's basement having used a decryption system to hack into the localized security system of the underground workspace, where he found something he was not supposed to find.

Blueprints for human flight simulation and real-time application. Tony smiled widely; he really liked to fly.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 – Hands of Change**

**S. Rune**: Well, yes, good Harry equals boring plot endings, but I hope I can make the ride fun enough for you. *smile* besides, it is the journey that is important, no?

And while the Iron Man will make his appearance many years later (obviously, I will be skipping years with only brief overviews), maybe these are the roots of the Iron Avenger. He still has a long way to go though. Meanwhile, there will be other people making their appearance. The story will however, remain Harry-centric.

None of this is going to follow Canon Potterverse. Just saying. Hope you enjoy. Onward!

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It was July 30, 1991, 2357 PM by the light of the watch he had got as a birthday present last year from Miss Anne. He could hardly wait for his 11th birthday to arrive in less than three minutes! He reminisced about his last few years at the Dursleys' house, hoping to stave off the excitement a bit.

By the time he had turned 8, Miss Anne had become his favorite teacher. She never ridiculed him, nor did she point out his mistakes to the authorities or his relatives. Instead she was patient and kind as she explained things to him in a way that he could understand. Not that he was slow in his class-work, but it was simply that he was a better student of Miss Anne's other classes than of the regular ones.

He remembered when his other, more special classes had begun. A day after his 8th birthday, Miss Anne had arranged for him to take remedial classes with her since he seemed to be slipping in certain subjects. The school administration didn't see anything out of place in this arrangement and consented to the plan. Though they did not know it at all, it was quite a serious oversight to hand over a child for special classes to someone who didn't even teach at the school. And had in fact never taught there.

Harry chuckled at the memory.

Miss Anne did tutor him in the subjects he was weak in. But he also had additional subjects in his curriculum. His surprised eyes had widened in overwhelming surprise to see the _Standard Book of Spells: Grade 1_ placed before him. This was followed by several other books with strange names and even stranger contents. All about wands and precise movements and … and MAGIC!

Miss Anne had begun his magical education that day and Harry had never looked back since. She told him the truth about his past and comforted him when he cried, wiping away his tears and telling him things would be alright. Harry put a lot of effort into learning magic since that day and progressed quite fast.

A year passed in relative peace. In that time, Harry learned all he could of magical theory, the history of the magical world, his parents' positions in that world and correspondingly his own. He learned about his fame as the Boy-Who-Lived and read about the various 'facts' that the books were peddling in the market for 9 years. He learnt about wizarding politics and about his own inheritance from his parents. With all that information crammed in his head, Harry was hard pressed to understand it all and he spent many nights unraveling the meaning of these new mysteries. Most often, however, his attention and energies were focused on learning the subject matter in the many, many books that Miss Anne bought for him to read. And as promised, his marks in his regular subjects also improved.

There was only one doubt that Harry could not clarify. Having been told of the limitations placed for young children against their practicing magic, Harry had wondered how he would learn magic without a wand. It seemed to be a prerequisite for doing any magic, after all. But for a year Miss Anne had told him to wait and be patient. And she had been right.

The day Harry turned 9 years old, Miss Anne gave him a thin green book with a dragon on the jacket. It was titled: _Wandless Ways of the Wise_. The book explained that magic casting with a wand was a fairly new practice. And wands themselves were new inventions. They were a focus to allow the magic of a witch or wizard to flow more freely and easily. But before the wands, the only way to cast any spell was wandlessly. Moving pictures and diagrams, that still roused delight in Harry, explained how every magic user had a magic core that fueled their magic.

Basically, the Core allowed the magic to flow through all parts of the body. Witches and wizards could learn to channel their magic through their hands and expel magic energy through the palms of the hands or even their fingers, depending on their magic proficiency levels. The most important thing to remember however was, that magic worked through intent and will. In order to cast a spell, one had to know what effect the spell was supposed to have, intend to have that effect and Will it hard enough. A weak Intent or a weak Will would result in a weak spell or even a fizzled out spell. And that was what Harry had to practice next. Wandless Magic.

Of course the incentive was that the Ministry of Magic or the Ministry of Marionettes, as Miss Anne often called it, could not identify the magical signature of a wandless spell or its caster. The reasons were political and expedient for security, for if everyone could be traced by their wands, then criminals would be easier to capture. It was a good structure, workable, except that the Ministry had begun to play God with the increasing control it had given itself over the regulation of magic users and the issue of punishment for rule breakers.

But the best part of the past two years had been the relatively relaxed atmosphere at No. 4, Privet Drive, Surrey, towards one Harry Potter. Harry had discovered that his magic didn't have to be restricted to the spells he learnt from the books. In effect, by imagining well enough, he could create a spell modeled to his intent. It had been, since then, endlessly amusing to see his Uncle and Cousin fall prey to various magical tricks. His Aunt didn't target him as much, so he didn't see much need to target her either. Besides, she was his mother's sister; blood did count for something.

For the past two years now, to his own and Miss Anne's satisfaction, Harry had been using magic effortlessly since he seemed to have a definite flair for wandless magics. And all of that had led to these last few seconds in the countdown to midnight of July 30, 1991. The first day of his new life would begin soon.

Ironic then, that Harry Potter, child wizard, fell asleep waiting for midnight, but nothing really changed on the outside to show that another world was waiting to receive a lost orphan boy back into its adoring, ravenous, grasping arms.

Sitting on the roof of No. 4, Privet Drive, Miss Anne smiled, sensing the winds of change and looking forward to see how they would blow.

H~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~P

In the Headmaster's tower office in Britain's Premier Wizarding school, Albus Dumbledore sat pensively, staring out the window. This was the year that would see the Boy-Who-Lived return to his rightful heritage in the magical world.

Unwilling to bring harmful attention to the boy from supporters of Voldemort, he had refrained from even occasionally visiting the child. The only information on him came from the good offices of Mrs. Figg. So far all reports had been positive and satisfactory. It seemed the boy was doing well. But he would soon need mentoring to realize his potential.

Albus frowned slightly. Well, let the boy come. He would mentor Harry himself. After all, no sacrifice was too much for the Greater Good.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5 – A Family or Two**

**Tempest S**: It does, but I've never really liked his 'Greater Good' ideology much. He's made decisions for people once too often and he's made some bad choices that have adversely affected people. But this time, someone else got in before he could.

Thank you all for your reviews! Keep reading! :)

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Awake bright and early on the morning of his 11th birthday, Harry felt as though he would burst from the joy he contained inside himself. Trying to contain his nervous energy, he went downstairs to make a grand breakfast for the family. When Petunia Dursley arrived in the kitchen, she found her nephew whistling cheerily as he cooked sausages and bacon, peeked in at a fresh baking bread, cut fruits and mixed batter for pancakes. Dumbfounded, she just watched quietly until Harry turned and saw her standing there.

Impulsively, he rushed at her and gave a big warm hug to the shocked woman. "Good morning, Aunt Petunia! I thought I'd make breakfast today." He pushed back to smile up at her and nodded. "Its my birthday, you know. I'm 11 today!"

Somehow, somewhere, that wide grin and those shining green eyes that reminded her so much of her lost sister, changed something inside Petunia and she enfolded her nephew tightly in her arms, not caring that he was liberally doused in flour and batter. Releasing him, she pressed a kiss to his forehead saying quietly, "Happy Birthday, Harry."

Then she whirled away and went quickly back up the stairs, not trusting her voice to say anything, and brushing back tears at her memories. She went up to the attic and rummaged inside old boxes, until she found what she was looking for. Cleaning it thoroughly, she returned to the kitchen only to find that the cook had almost finished and was looking longingly at the food while he prepared a separate plate for himself.

"Now, Harry. You've made breakfast for us, surely I can make breakfast for you? It is your birthday after all. It's not every day you turn 11," admonished Petunia, a smile lighting her thin face. When Harry cocked his head at her she invited him into the living room and pulled him to sit beside her. "I have a gift for you," she whispered.

Harry cocked a brow, but waited quietly. Over the years, his birthday gifts had been Dudley's old clothes and other such necessities that could be recycled on him. Seeing the guarded expression, Petunia gave him the brown paper parcel saying, "I forgot to wrap it. But I hope you will like it regardless. Happy Birthday, Harry."

Harry picked at the string and unwrapped the flat package, wondering why his Aunt would be giving him a book. But it wasn't a book at all. The package contained a wizarding picture album, and it had moving pictures! He jerked his head around to his Aunt so fast he cricked his neck. "Where did you get this?"

"Open it," was all she said.

Opening the album again, Harry looked carefully at the pictures. Some of the ones in the beginning were normal photographs of two little girls in dresses standing with their parents. Their wide smiles and happy eyes spoke volumes about their joy as a family. The next few were of Harry's grandparents alone alternating with the two sisters in various poses and activities. Their childhood was happy, explained Petunia, as they looked through the album together.

The change came around Lily's 11th birthday. "I was jealous of the attention she was getting. My parents were proud of her abilities and thought having a witch in the family was a great joke. I opposed it, strongly. Over the years, as we grew older, we grew apart. And then I started seeing Veron. He hated magic even then and I became increasingly influenced by him."

Harry turned from the moving picture of his parents meeting Lily's parents to see his Aunt staring at her hands lying limply in her lap, sorrow in the lines of her face. "I never really was against Lily's marriage with your father, Harry. I'd seen them and James' friends, Remus and Sirius around often enough to see them as normal enough, but with different abilities. When they weren't pulling their wands out for pranks, it was easy to see them as just humans. But Vernon never liked them. Or actually, he didn't like your father for having an expensive lifestyle despite having no obvious income. Eventually, when we were married, there was end to all our visits. I never saw Lily again, though for a time I used to receive letters from her."

She looked to see Harry listening intently to her and Petunia blushed self-consciously. "I have behaved abominably towards you in all these years. Lily would never forgive me. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me Harry. These were the memories of Lily I kept with me all these years. Now they are yours."

Fully expecting to be brushed off, Petunia was pleasantly surprised and thankful when her nephew wrapped his arm around her neck and gave her a kiss on her cheek. "No crying on my birthday, Aunt Tuni." He winked at her surprised face before diving away from her as she started tickling him. They soon settle down to perusing the album, with Petunia telling Harry the story behind each photograph.

This was the scene Vernon Dursley walked into when he came down for his breakfast only to hear his wife's laughter. He hadn't heard her laugh in many years. But to see her laughing with that no good brat was infuriating. But before he could manage to bluster and rail at them, Petunia looked up and saw him. And her voice was strong and firm.

"No more, Vernon. Harry is a part of this family. My own sister's son. I have followed your treatment of my nephew long enough. No more."

Shocked by his wife's turn about, Vernon Dursley was still blindsided when an owl flew down the chimney to drop a letter in Harry's hands. Having been told what to expect from Miss Anne, Harry asked the owl to please wait for a reply while he read the letter. Petunia who had once been used to owl-mail fetched the barn owl a plate of bacon rinds.

"Well, it looks like you'll be going to Hogwarts too then. Wouldn't expect anything else from Lily and James' son." Petunia was visibly proud of her nephew as she affectionately ruffled Harry's hair.

"Will you go with me to Diagon Alley, Aunt Tuni?"

"I would be honoured to finally see Diagon Alley, Harry. When can we go?" enquired Petunia, pleased that Harry had thought to ask her.

"Whenever you're free. It wont take long and we can be back in a day. But not tomorrow," answered Harry as he tied his affirmative reply to the owls leg to take back to Professor McGonagall.

"Very well then, we can go the day after tomorrow. How's that?" asked Petunia.

Harry nodded enthusiastically, smiling at his parents' photograph, not noticing Petunia watching him fondly. Suddenly Harry shot up and excused himself. "I'd forgotten I had promised old Mrs. Figg I would water her plants today." Called out his apologies, he dashed out of the house. Petunia turned to her husband and sighed. It was going to be a long day.

H~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~P

"Well it seems Mr. Potter will be attending Hogwarts this year, Professor."

"Indeed, Minerva. And we can finally give Harry the life he deserves."

"I only hope his time with those Muggles will not have harmed him. They were not the best specimen of Muggles I have ever seen," the witch sniffed derogatorily.

"My dear Professor McGonagall, I am sure Harry was just fine with his relatives. Blood does account for something after all. Petunia Dursley would not have abandoned her duty by her sister."

"I do hope you're right Albus. I would not want anything to happen to Lily and James' son." She left the room with a sigh. How she wished she could have brought up the boy herself.

Albus Dumbledore watched his deputy leave. He realized the dangers of leaving a defenseless boy with Muggles, especially one who was named by the prophecy. But if no one knew where he was, then neither would Voldemort's followers. And anonymity was perhaps the best things he could have given to the boy at the time. There would be far too much to catch up with, once he returned to take up the mantle of his legacy.

H~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~P

The next day dawned bright and clear and Harry Potter was already awake, eagerly anticipating the arrival of an as yet unseen, but most expected guest. The previous day he had filled in Miss Anne about his Hogwarts letter, his acceptance, his Aunts' change of heart and her agreement to go with him to Diagon Alley. He had invited Miss Anne to come to his house the next day and she had agreed but had said that she would bring someone else with her.

This morning, eager to see this new person, Harry rushed through his bath and exercises and went down to make breakfast to occupy himself with something. By the time the Dursleys came down he had finished making breakfast and was now waiting on tenterhooks for his teacher's arrival.

A knock on the door just after breakfast had Harry running for the front door, nearly tripping himself up on the mat. Petunia shook her head in amusement then rose in surprise when she heard a voice she hadn't heard in years.

"Remus John Lupin. Is that you?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 – Goblins and Galleons**

For all my readers waiting for an update on this story, here it is. :) i hope you enjoy it ... even though it is long. There are several answers here, but for any further clarifications, don't forget to Review and ask!

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A tall brunette wearing a jumper and trousers and a tired but pleasant smile answered quietly, "Hello Petunia. It's been a while."

"It has," nodded Petunia, suddenly looking younger as she smiled in welcome at her guests. "Do come in both of you. Can I interest you in a late breakfast? Miss Anne, Remus?" she asked cordially, stepping back and leading them through to the living room, with a bemused Harry bringing up the rear.

"No, thank you, Mrs. Dursley. We've already eaten," answered Miss Anne politely as they all made themselves comfortable on chaise armchairs and sofas. Harry at once sat with Miss Anne, while Remus seated himself across from Petunia. Everyone could see that he had positioned himself perfectly to keep Harry in his line of sight, glancing often at the son of his dearest friends.

"Well then, Harry, why did you invite us here?" prompted Miss Anne, when Petunia had served everyone glasses of lemonade and nobody spoke for a while.

"I wanted you to tell them what we've been doing. And I wanted you to tell them who you really are. But now that everyone is here, how about we go to Diagon Alley and get my school shopping over with?" asked Harry hopefully, excitement barely repressed.

"But I thought you wanted to do that tomorrow, dear," said Petunia, a hint of mischief in her eyes. "I've made no other plans for tomorrow."

"Oh." Harry looked down at his shoes a little dejected. He'd changed his mind just that morning and hadn't remembered his earlier request. "That – that's okay then," he stammered and then quickly gulped some lemonade, grimacing at the slight bitter taste.

"But if you really want to, we can all go today, if you can be ready in a half hours time." Petunia smiled at Harry's brightening face and then had to call up at him to "be careful!" as he jumped out of his seat and went careening up the stairs, thankfully without crashing into anything.

Half an hour later, all spruced up and ready, Harry bounced on the balls of his feet, waiting for the adults to join him at the front door. Petunia had excused herself from her guests to inform her husband and son that she would be going out for the day. Vernon had stared at her dumbly then turned and walked out the door. The car started just seconds later as he drove off to work. Turning to her son, she had sent him to get ready so she could drop him off at the Polkiss' who were friends of theirs'.

Forty – five minutes later, all chores done, Miss Anne called Harry back into the living room and said, "This is your first magical adventure, Harry. We're going to Apparate to London."

"What's Apparate, Miss Anne?"

"It's like teleporting." At Harry's interested expression she held out a hand. "All you need to do is hold my hand and we'll all go straight to Diagon Alley."

Harry immediately latched on to Miss Anne's hand while Petunia took Remus' and with a twist, the pristine living room of Privet Drive disappeared and they opened their eyes to see the back door of The Leaky Cauldron. Stepping inside, Remus quickly led the group through the pub to a blank wall. There he took out his wand and tapped a sequence of bricks and stepped back. Harry watched avidly as a portal opened in the wall and he could see a different world through the doorway.

The group moved through the portal which closed behind them with a slight grating sound and walked on deeper into Diagon Alley. Petunia looked around in awe. The sights and sounds were overwhelming and she remembered many names being shouted by sellers and they advertised their wares. And all the while, there were cats and owls adding their two hoots and hisses to that cacophony. Petunia laughed, "How utterly, amazingly chaotic!"

Miss Anne and Remus chuckled, their memories of their first time in Diagon Alley still as clear as though it'd been yesterday. "Where are we going first?" asked Petunia, turning her head around to look back at the marketplace as they moved deeper along the main road.

Remus lifted a hand and pointed, "There. Gringott's."

An imposing structure, Gringott's was a pure white edifice off which the sunlight bounced back sharply enough to hurt the eyes. "What is that?"

"That is the Wizarding World's bank, London's branch of Gringott's. Its run by Goblins and its security is impenetrable. We need to go there to get some money for Harry's shopping trip," explained Miss Anne.

"Goblins …" whispered Petunia, unable to believe her ears. Then her brain caught up with the rest.

"But I thought I was going to buy Harry his things …?" she asked hesitantly.

Miss Anne smiled. "You can still do that if you want. But you would have to get the Pounds converted to Galleons. Wizards have a different monetary system and indeed different money altogether. We need to have Harry get his vault key as soon as possible now that he is 11. In our world, children are usually set up for their 7 years of education by their parents. The Potters are an old family; they would have arranged something for Harry."

Petunia listened and learned. She was a little hurt that she would not be able to provide for her nephew, but she ought to have known that Lily would surely have thought ahead and provided for such a contingency. Keeping her thoughts to herself she kept up with the others, startled out of her thoughts with the feel of a warm little hand slipping inside her own. She looked down to see that Harry had sidled over to her and was smiling up at her, tugging an answering smile to her own lips. Squeezing his hand lightly, they went on.

At the first white step, she caught her first sight of a goblin. Short, swarthy features met her shocked gaze and she held on tighter to Harry, quickly following after Remus and Miss Anne. Entering the huge gold doors, she beheld an opulence she had never imagined. Marble floors polished to within an inch of their mirror-like existence, towering pillars of jade and onyx, the high vaulted ceiling burnished in bronze and gold. Witches and wizards went to and fro about their business wearing robes of various colors, several of them standing in queues before goblin tellers awaiting their turn. Mouth slightly agape, she stared about her, only coming to when someone tugged her blouse.

"Huh?"

"We need to go, Petunia. Anne's already gone to request an audience with a goblin manager."

Nodding, Petunia shook herself and followed after Remus with Harry. They had waited for about 10 minutes looking at the people walking about, when Miss Anne returned with a goblin who requested them to follow him. He led them to an office lit in yellow and upholstered in green and bid them wait for a while. Seconds later another goblin entered and sat behind a rather solid looking desk.

"Welcome to Gringott's London. I am Grimshaft."

"My name is Remus Lupin," started Remus. "And my companions are Miss Anne Trelawney, Mrs. Petunia Dursley and Mr. Harry Potter," finished Remus, pointing out each person as he spoke. At Harry's name the goblin started and focused on the messy inky locks before him.

"May I see the scar?"

Harry obligingly lifted his bangs to reveal the jagged lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead.

"Thank you, Mr. Potter. I apologize for that intrusion, but I have had to meet with several individuals claiming to be Harry Potter before, intending surely to gain access to your property here. By good fortune, I have been managing the Potter finances for a long time and have grown somewhat familiar with the family. There have been no problems. Now, how may I help you?"

"We are here to have the Potter Wills read and for Harry's vault key," answered Anne.

Grimshaft nodded and snapped his fingers. A goblin entered from a chamber beyond and the manager must have given instructions in his language, since the other disappeared quickly. Grimshaft offered tea and scones as refreshment to his visitors while they waited.

Moments later, the goblin returned with three boxes that he placed before Grimshaft and left. Withdrawing several papers, the goblin placed them before him and said, "These are the Wills of your parents, Lord James Potter and Lady Lily Potter. Would you like to hear them now?"

Harry nodded, having been told what to expect. The goblin picked up the top parchment and read. "This is the last Will and Testament of Lord James Markus Potter."

"Harry, if you are listening to this, then neither your mother, nor I are alive, and I must apologize for leaving you alone in the world. Whatever safeguards we left in place would have become active when you turned 8, so we are at least assured that you will be cared for, even if not by us."

"There was a prophecy, Harry. A prophecy so terrible, that I hid my family from the world. Lily, I and our beautiful baby boy, Harry James Potter, our own personal gift. We love you Harry, until our dying breath we loved you, as did your uncles Padfoot and Moony. In case anything happens to us, we have named Sirius your Godfather, and you should have grown up with him. Unfortunately, your godmother was hurt badly in a battle and can neither meet nor recognize you, but I am sure Madam Longbottom would care for you as her own grandson. She has, after all, a vested interest to keep you both alive. Her daughter-in-law was your Godmother."

"Now, as my only son and Heir, I leave to you all the monies, properties, businesses and assets that are joined to the name of Ancient and Noble House of Potter. And though your mother does not agree to giving you the responsibility at so young an age, I name you also, Lord Potter, with all the Power that goes with it. It will grant you immediate access to all properties and monies mentioned above, although it would be best if you are supervised until you are 15 by either Sirius or Remus. Trust them to make decisions for you though your mother would suggest that you listen to Moony more than Padfoot."

"I must warn you Harry. Voldemort wanted you dead and would not have given up until he had found success. To that end, we gave you every protection we could give you to survive, and if it came down to it, for you to beat him, once and for all. To answer your curiosity, Harry, the prophecy is this;

"The one with power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches . . .

Born to those who have trice defied him, born as the seventh month dies . . .

And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not . . .

And either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives . . .

The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies . . ."

"However, no matter the circumstance, when you read this, you need to let people know that the Secret Keeper of the Fidelius for Potter Cottage, Godric's Hollow was Peter Pettigrew. NOT Sirius Black. Since we are dead, I give you leave to find that Rat and kill him. He doesn't deserve to live."

"Now on to some other matters. There are some disbursements I would like you to carry out. I will that the sum of 1,000,000 Galleons be given to the Order of The Phoenix to continue the fight against the dark blight on the world that is Voldemort and his merry band of Death Eaters, with the condition that my son Harry be in complete control of the use of that amount. Also that the sum of 500,000 Galleons each be transferred directly into the vaults of Sirius Orion Black and Remus John Lupin, so that they may not have any chance to refuse. I know you won't agree voluntarily, you big bad wolf. I also will that under direct guidance of Harry James Potter, a 10,000,000 Galleon trust fund be established for the aid of the victims of the war. If they are deserving, Harry, help them. Ask Sirius and Remus for help, I know my oldest friends won't let you down. I leave my blessings and my love with you, Harry. And remember, a Marauder never rests."

Grimshaft laid the parchment on the table and looked up into the slightly misty eyes of his visitors. Opening another box, he withdrew a parchment. "Mr. Potter, if you would give a drop of your blood on this parchment, we can bind the Identity and Heredity Charms to your Lordship." He presented a blade and waited for Harry.

Had it not been for the unstinting support from the adults around him, Harry might have been bawling right this minute. Who wanted to learn of one's death at barely 11 years of age anyway!? He looked up at Miss Anne who nodded encouragingly. Thus fortified, he took a deep breath and picked up the knife, slicing into his palm with a hiss of pain, before letting a few drops fall on the blank parchment.

It glowed with a brilliant white light that caused them to shield their eyes. It then evolved into two solid objects lying on the parchment that was now devoid of blood. Harry looked at his palm and saw that it was healed. He looked to the goblin in question.

"The blade's property allows any wound to heal immediately, Lord Potter. Now, if you would, please accept these Rings of Lordship."

"Why are there two rings?" asked Petunia. "Isn't there only supposed to be one?"

"While it is true that the Will only mentions one Ring, the Heredity Charm is never wrong. Lord Potter is the Lord of two ancient and Noble Houses. The House of Potter and the even older House of Peverell. I suspect that the House of Potter may have either descended from of be bound to Peverell House by blood. There would be no other reason why two Rings would materialize for Lord Potter." He looked at the young Lord listening intently to the explanation. "Please put on these Rings, Lord Potter."

Slowly, after getting encouraging, hopeful and even a happy glance from the adults, he took the solid gold ring the goblin was holding out to him and looked at it. Resting snugly in its bed of pure gold was an uncut ruby with a rampaging lion and griffin motif in inscribed in gold on it. He put the Potter Ring on his right ring finger, where he felt it should be and immediately felt a jolt of magic running through him. The information contained in the Potter Ring was incredible. Though he did not know it, Harry glowed gold for a moment as the Ring recognized its new Overlord.

Eager to see what the other Ring felt like, Harry reached for the Peverell Ring and placed it immediately on his left forefinger. Another jolt of magic later, during which Harry was glowing blue, he became aware of several magics that Miss Anne had never mentioned to him. A consciousness awoke in his mind that told him to keep his new knowledge a secret until he could try it out somehow. He looked up at the goblin and asked, "Is that it?"

Grimshaft's lips twitched and he nodded. "Yes, that is all. The only other thing to do is to read the Will of Lady Potter. Shall I proceed?"

Harry nodded decisively.

"This is Lily Jane Potter's Last Will and Testament. My dear son, let me first tell you that I love you very much and it was for love of you that and your father and I chose to take the steps we did. As James left the telling to me, I will try to explain what I did to keep you safe."

"Our magics allow us to cross space and time but they do not let us overcome the Killing Curse. There is, however, a way to cheat Death from that curse. For that there is one thing I must tell you, Harry. You are a Pureblood."

"I come from a long line of magic users, who were all annihilated by Grindelwald and his creatures in the last war. My parents survived by escaping the continent, taking me with them and hiding until they knew that Grindelwald was dead. By now you will have accepted the Peverell Ring and that is the answer, Harry. I was a Peverell. To keep me safe, they changed their name to Evans and lived in the non-magical world, away from the eyes of others looking for survivors of Grindelwald's purge."

"When I married James, I told him who I was. There were no secrets between us. Grimshaft, who should be reading this Will to you, is the only other person who knows this secret because he helped me accept the Peverell Ring you now wear. As Lady Peverell, I had command over several kinds of magics that are not encouraged by the British Ministry. You now have these same powers. I enacted a Blood Ritual for you, Harry, making you my Heir by magic and have transfused enough of my blood into you in this last month, that it should take whatever assault may be aimed at you. Even, I believe, the Killing Curse. And thus you will be saved, even from that maniac Voldemort."

"The Peverells were once counted among the Pureblood elite of the magical society as much as the Potters. We were known for our mastery of Potions, Charms and Runic magic, among the tamer forms of magic used today. Evans Manor, which is now yours, has a Library full of knowledge for you to enjoy. Peverell Manor is open only to you by blood, as is the Peverell Family vault. Everything the Peverells have is yours now."

"I have a warning for you too, Harry. No matter what you do or what he says, do not trust Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster at Hogwarts. He is a master manipulator and many have fallen to his whims. He wants the best for us, but his methods are not necessarily the best. You must find your own avenue, Harry. Don't let him get to you."

"There is only one thing I would say now to you, my son. Marry in love, Harry and live in happiness. I know that the prophecy will not allow you to live in peace for some time, yet you are listening to my Will. You will survive Harry, because I made it so. Have faith in those closest to you, but never forget to follow your heart. Your friends will be your strength but you must learn to defend yourself, body and mind. Good Luck, my Harry. I will always love you. Your loving Mother, Lily."

Grimshaft placed the parchment on his desk and looked into three gaping features. He cleared his throat softly and the humans shook themselves out of their stupor. "Lily was the Scion of a Dark family! How is it that neither she nor James ever told us this?" exclaimed Remus, looking as though everything he had ever known was falling about his ears.

"We have never told anyone, Remus. And I don't doubt that this Will was meant for Harry's ears only." Remus flinched as he turned to face Petunia Dursely nee Evans/Peverell. "I am a Squib and resented my sister for her magic, but I loved her regardless, even though there would be no future for me in her world." Petunia looked at the floor sadly, until Harry slipped a hand into hers'. "But have you ever known Lily to be anything but kind and giving, Remus? She was not dark, no matter what her name was. And if you think she was, then you are no less dark." Petunia skewered Remus with a piercing gaze, "Isn't that so, werewolf?"

Remus sat back, his objections lost somewhere. The shock of the disclosure wearing off, he stared thinking more clearly, remembering all those years at Hogwarts. Several agonizing moments later, he reached the only conclusion that was true; Lily Potter nee Evans/Peverell was not dark.

He heaved a sigh, realizing that everyone, including the goblin was watching him carefully. He nodded at Petunia and turned to look at Grimshaft. "Is there anything else?"

Grimshaft produced another parchment and gave it to Harry, explaining, "This is a financial statement of both the Potter Vault and the Peverell Vault at it last update which was yesterday. Your Trust Fund Vault is mentioned under the Potter Vault and is refilled from there if a substantial withdrawal is made. However, as there was no withdrawal made in the last 11 years, the amount in the vault has increased substantially. In total therefore, as of yesterday evening, the Peverell Vault has 87,000,000 Galleons all told. The Potter Vault has 19,000,000 Galleons all told. The Trust Fund Vault under the Potter Vault has 23,00,000 Galleons all told." Grimshaft paused. "There have been a few substantial withdrawals made from the Potter Vault in the last 11 years. None but the first were authorized by Lord Potter or by his Godfather or Godmother., however."

"Then who was it?" asked Harry, when the adults were silent.

"The withdrawals were made by a Mr. Albus Dumbledore, who has so far taken out close to 25,000,000 Galleons from the Potter Vault. A large sum of this amount was placed in what is called the Order Vault. The rest, I presume was spent, though a certain amount was placed in the Hogwarts Treasury 11 years ago."

"Do you mean to say, Albus Dumbledore has been taking Harry's money for 11 years, with none of us the wiser? Why was Harry never informed?" demanded Petunia.

"Madam, we sent several owls to Lord Potter over the years, but the always returned undelivered," answered Grimshaft evenly.

"There must a ward around the house. That is the only reason why trained post owls would not be able to find Harry," Remus said, having finally found his wits.

"Very well then, this is what I want done. My father's bequest is for 1,000,000 Galleons to be given to Mr. Dumbledore. I will add another 1,000,000 Galleons to that amount. Apart from that amount, retrieve whatever else has been taken from the Potter Vault and replace it. Leave the amount put in the Hogwarts Treasury. At least that cannot be used for personal requirements. Remove Mr. Dumbledore, and everyone else from the list of people allowed to access the Potter and Peverell Vaults. At the moment all the Vaults that belong to me can only be accessed by me. If I choose to change that status, I will inform you, Master Grimshaft." Harry's voice was hard as he made his demands, but his bowed to the goblin in respect.

Grimshaft's eyebrows rose at the deference from the young boy, but nodded in agreement. Indeed, it was a good plan. "And what shall we tell Mr. Dumbledore when he come to enquire after the removal from the Vault?" asked the goblin.

"Tell him Lord Potter authorized it since he did not authorize the removal of the monies from his Vault in the first place." Harry rose from his seat, "If there is nothing else, Master Grimshaft, I would like to visit my Vaults now."

"Very well, Lord Potter. I will send for a goblin to escort you. Your Rings will allow you into your Vaults. No keys required unless you allow someone else access. A pleasure doing business with you," the Goblin bowed.

"And with you also, Master Grimshaft, thank you for all your help," Harry smiled as he followed his goblin escort out to the Vaults. The adults made their own goodbyes to the goblin and followed quickly after the young but powerful Lord Potter.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7 – The Hogwarts Way**

The next month was filled with preparations for Harry's first year at Hogwarts. Having visited the Vaults first, Harry's new knowledge courtesy the Family Rings came in useful for sorting out the various articles he might need in the years to come. Leaving his Peverall Vault sealed from all but himself and Grimshaft, he surveyed the Potter Vault and retrieved articles that would fit his requirements as per the list that came with his Hogwarts letter.

A trunk with several compartments and rooms, its lid etched with a Runic Blood Recognition fail-safe was the first thing he chose, into which went several articles of regular and formal clothing, dragonhide boots, resizing dragonhide armor, and a small portrait of his parents. On Miss Anne's advice, he also chose a small dragon ring that slid comfortably onto his left pinkie. But when he asked about her reason for the choice, she merely smiled.

From there they had gone to his Trust Fund Vault, from where he filled one section of his trunk with enough gold, silver and bronze to last him the year. Leaving the Vaults, a scary ride in a Gringotts' cart brought them back to the 'ground floor'. Harry purchased a goblin-made money bag that he could tune to his Trust Fund Vault and had a few thousand Galleons transferred to Petunia's Muggle account, disregarding her refusal to the same.

A few days later, Harry, Petunia and Remus returned from Diagon Alley with Harry's books and other Hogwarts materials only to find the house empty. Apart from Petunia's own things, the house was deserted with no sign of either Vernon or Dudley Dursley. A few calls later established that both male Dursleys has left the house and gone to live with Vernon's sister Marge Dursley. Having never liked the loud, brash, aggressive personality of this person, Harry wasn't too concerned. But he sat and comforted his aunt long into the night.

Miss Anne and Remus both offered to come and stay with Petunia, but while Remus was all too willing to stay to look after Harry's aunt right there at Privet Drive, Miss Anne had a different suggestion to make.

"We all know that Dumbledore is probably going to come and talk to Harry himself. For that reason, it would be best if no-one other than yourselves is found here until the end of this month. You can simply pretend that your husband and son are out for a visit to some or the other club. But it is imperative that Dumbledore or his representative find you here," she told Petunia in one of their discussions.

"In the meanwhile, Harry will arrange for you to stay at one of the Potter houses. You will be unreachable there and if you relocate there on September 1st, Dumbledore will be none the wiser, and you will be safe." Seeing Petunia about to protest, she continued, "We will protect your family too, don't worry. As soon as they return, the safeguards on this house will activate without any problems."

Petunia nodded to show she understood. The decisions made, Harry began leaving with Remus to inspect his various properties. Eventually he settled on Peverell Vale. It was in the country in the north of England and only the Heir could gain or grant access. Once he had added Remus to the wards, they jumped back to pick up Miss Anne and Petunia. Adding them into the wards took less than a minute and they were treated to a magnificent sight.

A large sprawling homestead sat in the midst of rolling meadows dotted with animals, and pockets of flowers. Some of these animals were regular while others were obviously magical. The forests at the back of the property was home to a small herd of unicorns who's stallion also kept the area safe with their magic. Harry, Remus and Anne could also see several Thestrals flying above the property. Inside the house, they were welcomed by 20 house-elves wearing a dark green livery with blue trimming and the house crest in blue over their hearts, proclaiming their loyalty to Lord Peverell.

Awakened by the noise in a house that had lain silent for so many years, a few portraits in the study started talking loudly, demanding to know who was there. One there, Harry introduced himself and was welcomed by a long row of ancestors. Then he introduced his friends, watching his Aunt Petunia as she approached a portrait of an aristocratic couple. All of them had tears in their eyes; the others excused themselves and let Petunia reunite with her parents.

Refreshments were offered by the elves while they carried out Harry's orders. The house was to be kept clean and ready for visitors at all times. Petunia Dursley nee Peverell would be staying here now and the elves were to make sure she was comfortable. Remus and Anne both offered to stay with her and since Petunia was comfortable with them, that suggestion was welcomed.

Harry split his time between Privet Drive and Peverell Vale. He shifted into an upstairs bedroom at Privet Drive and bought a lot of new clothes that actually fit him. One time he even got an entire pizza all to himself. The only time they had to all go out together was when they needed to get Harry's robes from Madam Malkin's and his wand from Ollivander's. Other than that, they prepared for the arrival of anyone from Hogwarts. They didn't have to wait too long.

August 30th arrived with a knock on the door at 8 AM. Petunia and Harry were in the kitchen making breakfast when they heard the light tapping. Leaving Harry to finish plating up the pancakes just the way he liked them, Petunia went to open the door, only to see a significant quantity of brightly shining white hair contrasting against a bright purple set of robes with golden stars and a pointy hat in the same color. The old man was wearing half-moon glasses that were perched on a rather crooked nose and the white hair, which turned out to be his beard, was tucked into his belt. She looked him up and down (noticing that he wore buckled heeled shoes) twice, before she recovered enough to ask, "Who are you?"

With a flourish worthy of a dandy, the man swept off his pointy hat (how could it possibly be so pointy?) and sketched a bow, "My name, Madam, is Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. I am the Headmaster of Hogwarts."

"All of that with spaces or without?" asked Petunia, stifling a smirk

"Err … very much without," replied Dumbledore, a little confused by the question. Had he been too heavy handed with the Confundus Charm?

"Very well, come in Headmaster A.P.W.B. Dumbledore of Hogwarts. Would you like some breakfast?" asked Petunia as she followed the tall wizard into her house.

"Um … no, thank you, Mrs. Dursley. I am here to talk about your nephew Harry Potter."

"Well, we can talk with some tea, can't we? Harry? Are you done with the pancakes? Put on some tea at once. I have a guest," called Mrs. Dursley.

Albus started at hearing the woman command the Saviour of the Wizarding World to put on the tea. Was it possible that the boy was made to work here?

"Please, do sit down." Petunia sat in her favourite wicker chair by the window, waiting for the confused looking dandy to seat himself somewhere.

Albus took a seat opposite Petunia across a small tea table, just as Harry appeared with the tea-tray. Setting it down carefully on the table, he proceeded to pour the drink into two delicate pieces of china, put a cube of sugar into Aunt Petunia's cup while she asked Dumbledore how much sugar he wanted in his tea. Listening quietly to the answer, Harry put three sugar cubes into Dumbledore's cup and then quietly retreated to the kitchen.

It was only then that Albus realized that he hadn't once heard Harry speak, nor had the boy looked up. He wondered why Harry would behave this way, but then noticed a steely look in Petunia Dursley's eyes as she listened. Well, if Harry Potter had been kept suppressed in this household, then he, Albus Dumbledore would be the one to rescue him and set him free in the world of his heritage.

Petunia watched the man before her, hiding a smile behind her cup of tea. The man suddenly looked like a puffed up popinjay, no doubt dreaming of what guidance he would give her nephew when he got him 'under his wing'. But she was Lily Peverell's sister and a Peverell herself. She could handle this … man, well enough. And so she listened to Dumbledore ramble on, nodding at all the right places.

When she'd finally had enough, she said, "Well, Mr. Dumbledore, I'm quite sure I'll be able to deliver Harry to King's Cross' on September the 1st well enough. And the monetary aid will be welcome, of course. That goes without saying." Petunia smiled as she said so, a watchful look in her eyes. Dumbledore just realized her eyes were the same shade of green as Lily's; the same shade as Harry's. He took his leave and tried not to notice the door shutting with soft finality behind him.

Petunia and Harry enjoyed a delicious breakfast of pancakes with honey and blueberry muffins with strawberry milkshakes. They looked forward to their new homes in two days time. September could not get there fast enough.

H~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~P

"You're sure you'll be alright, Harry?"

"I'll be fine Aunt Tuni. Miss Anne will keep an eye on me and it'll be Christmas soon and I'll come over and we'll celebrate it together," replied Harry easily, almost shouting over the cacophony of owls hooting, luggage being dragged, children shouting over at one another and the conductor blowing his whistle for the hundredth time. "Don't worry, Aunt Tuni. Everything will be great. I'll write as soon as I get settled in."

Harry clambered up onto the scarlet train and hoisted the cage of his new pet snowy owl, steadying himself with his other hand on the guard rail. He waved to his Aunt and Remus, who was disguised, before turning to find a place to sit. He much preferred a quiet journey, but sitting with other people might not be so bad.

The second to last compartment was empty, save for two brunettes, a boy and a girl. Harry shrugged mentally. It could've been worse. He opened the door of the compartment. "Is it okay if I join you here? Everywhere else is full."

Two brown heads turned around at the sound of his voice. The boy spoke, "Yes, of course. But come in quickly; my toad's run off again somewhere, and I'd rather he not go outside."

Harry nodded and moved in smoothly, closing the door sharply behind him. Putting his owl, Hedwig's cage on the carrier rack above, he sat down and pulled a book from his pocket and settled down to read.

"Excuse me? What book are you reading?"

Harry sighed to himself and lowered his book to peer at the girl over the top of it. "'_Amusing Anecdotes of Experimental Evidences'._ It a book on Transfiguration. I got it for a bit of extra reading."

"Are … are you … Harry Potter?"

The girl clamped a hand to her mouth, her brown eyes wide. Harry looked over at the boy who had spoken. He was pink in the face and had plump, round features; probably not one to bring attention to himself if he could help it, Harry surmised. "I'm amazed that you could tell that from my choice of reading material," he answered.

"No, no, not from the book," he shook his head. "I just saw your scar," he finished in a rush.

"What? This? So much fuss for a scar," Harry sighed. "Well, seeing as how you already know my name, it makes sense that you tell me yours' too. So spill."

"Uh … I'm Neville Longbottom. And this is …"

"Hermione Granger," the girl found her voice again.

"Neville Longbottom. Longbottom? Where have I heard … ? Oh! Your mum is my Godmother!" Harry slipped down from his seat and walked over to Neville, holding out his hand. "Good to see you mate," he said with a bright smile, pumping the boy's hand. "How is Madam Longbottom?"

"Gran? She's alright, I guess," replied Neville hesitantly.

"I know about your parents, Neville. A mutual friend told me when I met him over this summer. But there is no need to talk about it if you don't want to," Harry assured gently, as he returned to his seat.

Neville smiled gratefully and nodded, turning his gaze out of the window.

The silence did not long remain unbroken though. "You're a very well known figure in the Wizarding world, Harry. I already know all about you."

To her consternation, the boy addressed did not even raise his head. "Do you now?" he asked in an offhand tone, continuing to peruse his page.

"Well, yes. You're in several books, you know, and they tell about how you defeated the most evil wizard in the world at just 15 months. You've become very famous in the wizarding world for doing that. I just thought it would be a good idea to get some background reading material on the Wizarding world." She paused. "I'm Muggleborn, you see."

At that Harry did look up at her, scrutinizing the girl; from her honest brown eyes, bushy hair, to her avid, open expression. A knock on the door announced the arrival of a nice witch with a cart full of wizarding sweets. "Would you like something off the cart, dears?" she asked, smiling at them.

Seeing as no-one was making any effort to reply, Harry hopped off his seat and bought a sample of everything he found interesting. Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, Sugar Quills and Chocolate Frogs, his arms were full of them. Then he distributed them among his companions. Neville came around with a game of guessing the flavour of Bertie's Beans and soon even Hermione mellowed with the lure of learning about famous witches and wizards from the Chocolate Frog cards.

The journey passed quickly after that, but as the train pulled into the station, Harry was left wondering just how many people would expect him to be the Boy-Who-Lived, as opposed to just Harry Potter.

H~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~P

While the teachers were busy with their schedules and planning orientation speeches for their Houses after the Sorting Ceremony, Albus Dumbledore was waiting most eagerly for the Sorting Ceremony itself. Today was the day when Harry Potter would finally enter his dominion. He leaned back against the plush paisley cushions of his chair with a sense of personal satisfaction.

Once his plans were brought to fruition, the boy could be dealt with; after all, memory loss due to severe trauma wasn't uncommon in either the Wizarding or the Muggle world. Though only in one case could it be made permanent and tragically irreversible. It wouldn't do to remove the boy from the world's eyes altogether, for the public had a long memory and they would still need their poster boy. Maybe the boy would be open to a business partnership of sorts eventually; then there wouldn't be any need to eliminate him. Ah, well, there was plenty of time to arrange all of that.

When the hour struck seven, he made his way down to the Great Hall where the students were already assembling for the start of term feast. Exchanging pleasantries with those members of the staff already present, he sat at his place in the centre of the staff table facing the Hall. Soon the first years would join the school; Tradition was a powerful enchantment indeed.

As the Hall filled with the chatter of students and teachers alike, he watched Minerva bring in the first year students. Unobtrusively, he tried to locate Harry, but there seemed to a rather large number of boys with black hair this year. Leaning back into his chair, he listened to the Sorting Hat sing its usual song and then the Sorting began.

He nodded to himself at the Sorting of several students; yes, there would always be an Abbott and a Bones in Hufflepuff; young Finch-Fletchy was a surprise in Ravenclaw for a first generation wizard; Miss Granger might surely have done well in Ravenclaw, anyway …; Mr. Longbottom joined Gryffindor just like his parents, excellent; young Mr. Malfoy followed his father's footsteps to Slytherin, no surprise there; ah, there it was, the name he had been waiting for, 'Potter, Harry'.

Leaning forward, he seemed to join the unconscious movement of the entire Hall, as it watched with bated breath the Sorting of the Boy-Who-Lived. This moment was crucial.

Minutes later, the Hat seemed to be taking an inordinate amount of time and whispers were growing around the Hall. Dumbledore watched with a strained patience, his fingers white as they clenched the table. And then …

"GRYFFINDOR!" proclaimed the Hat, sounding as though its voice was hoarse with shouting.

Cheers erupted at the Gryffindor table, where several members of the House rose to welcome him as he stepped up to the House table and sat down next to Hermione, waiting eagerly for dinner.

The last few Sortings went by quickly and Dumbledore rose to say, "Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"

Harry smirked at the theatrics as he began filing his plate with food, before most of it disappeared. It was a happy table to be at, to be sure. Gryffindors seemed to be a friendly bunch, and he knew they all wanted to talk to him. For that reason, he kept his attention on his plate. A feeling of being watched caused him to look up, pinpointing the stare accurately thanks to his Occlumency training courtesy Miss Anne. Well, it seemed one of the teachers didn't like him much. Harry filed that information away for later.

The Headmaster's end of feast notices were straightforward, though he would have advised keeping the third floor corridor a secret, if such it was meant to be. He could already tell that at least the Weasley Twins were born pranksters; it was unlikely that a warning would stop them.

The password for the Gryffindor portrait was 'Rutilus Animam', and Harry was glad to finally be able to get some rest. He found that he would be sharing his dorm with four other boys, pleased when one of them was Neville. To be polite, he introduced himself and made small talk with the others who he learned were Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnegan, and Ronald Weasley. But he was sleepy from eating the heavy food at the feast and so, making a mental note to send Hedwig out with letters the next day, he wished his dorm-mates a goodnight and drifted off to sleep, ignoring the curious looks being directed towards him. He'd deal with that tomorrow.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8 – The Hat Speaks**

For being the 100th person to 'Favourite' this story, this chapter is in thanks to **Belthezzor**!

No **S. Rune**, once I get the ball rolling, I won't be reliving everything. This is not going to follow canon much, or at all if I can help it.

There is the beginning of a major twist in this chapter. So watch out! Revelations come later! ;)

Thank you all so much for reading! Don't forget to Review! :)

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Waking at six the next morning, Harry quickly freshened up and changed into his sweats and left the Gryffindor tower for the grounds outside. Once near the lake, he proceeded to warm up and then ran around the lake for about 10 laps. After cooling down for a while, he moved smoothly into a settled rhythm of exercises he had been doing for 3 years now. Of course, he usually had Miss Anne to accompany him, but at least he knew she was safe.

Finishing within the hour mark, he jogged back up to the dorm, thankfully meeting nobody on the way. Taking a change of clothes from his trunk, he went to the bathrooms, bathed and changed into the regulation school robes, cocking his pointy wizard's hat a bit jauntily on his head. Picking up his school bag, he left the dorm only to find Neville waiting for him in the common room and they walked down to breakfast together, talking amiably about what Neville knew about Hogwarts.

Breakfast was a chatty affair, the only pause being Professor McGonagall's arrival at the House table to distribute time-tables to the students. Harry noticed that the Gryffindors shared most of their classes with the Slytherins every day, with maybe one class being shared with the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs each. Tough time-tables. Nudging Neville to point out the Double Charms they had first thing that morning with the Slytherins, he drained his glass of water and rose from the table. And not a moment too soon.

"So, you're the famous Harry Potter," called a sharp voice behind them.

"I've been called that, yes," Harry replied nonchalantly as he picked up his bag and moved to join Neville. Belatedly he noticed that most of Gryffindor and eavesdroppers from the other houses had stayed back to see how this would play out. He also noticed that the Gryffindors looked both wary and disgusted. He turned to face the cause of these reactions.

A slim young boy with silver blond hair and pale complexion, probably a first year as well, stood a few steps before him, with two sturdy looking boys positioned on either side of him. All three boys wore the distinctive Slytherin coat of arms on their robes. If this was a show of strength, then the bookends weren't creating the effect too well. Mostly they just looked confused.

"And you are …?" prodded Harry patiently.

""My name is Malfoy, Draco Malfoy." Harry noted the haughty manners and the tilt of the head that smacked of supremacy. He played along.

"How do you do, Mr. Malfoy? Pleased to make your acquaintance." He stepped forward with his hand out and shook hands once firmly with the boy. "I'd like to stay and chat, but I'm running a bit late for my first class of the day. So, if you'll excuse me …" Draco Malfoy was not alone in staring at Harry's retreating back as he ushered a dumbfounded Neville out the Great Hall and up to the Charms class.

Up at the staff table, Dumbledore watched the scene with amusement. Minerva McGonagall, the Gryffindor Head of House was pleased to see the boy conduct himself so calmly. But Severus Snape only analysed the boy's behavior. While it was true that a student of his own House had instigated the public 'meeting', Potter's response was the crux on which its outcome had depended. As it was, the boy had left not only Draco, but also everyone else at a stalemate without expending too much effort or unnecessarily exposing anything about himself.

Snape decided he would have to watch this Gryffindor boy with the Slytherin traits.

Harry found that his classes were interesting, and that the teachers knew their stuff. However, he was aware that there was much more that they could be doing in each class and was glad that Miss Anne had advised him to be better read and more advanced than his peers. A little preparation never hurt anyone.

It was only in Potions, a class the Gryffindors shared with the Slytherins, that he found himself forced to watch his step at all times. The Professor seemed to have it in for him at first sight and he had no idea what could provoke such animosity in the man towards a person he had surely never seen before. But Harry learnt to shrug it off and consistently produced perfect potions in the class.

Several times a few Slytherins tried to sabotage his potions; sometimes they succeeded, sometimes not, but Harry remained the poster boy of Peace. The Gryffindors were wary of his calm attitude to such focused harassment and Hermione had even once suggested that he should report this unfair behavior to McGonagall immediately. But Harry always refused saying, "It doesn't really bother me. I take it as a training exercise."

Time flew by at Hogwarts but it was rocky at best. The teachers were all uncertain of Harry's advanced abilities, particularly his practical use of the more 'dark' forms of magic. And none of them could control him. Dumbledore was the one most frustrated at this turn of events, especially as he had learnt over the past months that Harry Potter was an extremely talented Occlumens. Where he had learnt the skill from was anybody's guess because Harry wasn't talking.

Still, Dumbledore often called him up to his office and tried to question or guide him, a benign grandfatherly look in his eye. Not that Harry was taken in by any of it. In fact he probably would not have agreed to keep coming to see the Headmaster if it wasn't for two things; the Sorting Hat and the fire phoenix Fawkes.

Early in September, Snape's unjust declaration of a detention had seen Harry in Dumbledore's office promising to report the man to Hogwarts' Body of Governors. The normally unflappable boy was roused to the extent of actually shouting at the professors until the fiery bird had whistled. The effect was instantaneous. Harry quieted but promised to carry through on his statement at the first sign of unjust harassment from the unrepentant Potions master.

Another time, Harry was invited by Dumbledore to impress upon him the importance of trusting one's elders, namely himself, to do what was best for him. But Miss Anne's lesson was well learnt and Harry intrinsically did not trust the Headmaster anyway. His phoenix, however, was different. During Dumbledore's monologue, Harry looked around for the bird and found Fawkes already staring at him. Refusing to lose to a bird, never mind that it was a Phoenix, he and the phoenix began a staring competition right there. At the end of it, the boy nodded once and looked over to find the Headmaster looking at him in a disturbingly contemplative way. Nodding once to him as well, Harry excused himself and returned to his dorm.

Fortunately for him, his trunk had a training room that he used often to work through his frustrations. But he never rose to any taunts or baits. He kept up a regular correspondence with his family in Peverell Vale, sending and receiving letters almost every day. He found his classes slow, but interesting, and gave in essays of a mature, insightful nature that usually called for his teachers to ask him where he got his information from. Hermione was the only other student in his year who got top marks in essays or practicals, but he never put himself up as a rival. Harry Potter went his own way, doing his own thing, and simply bided his time.

On a Sunday morning, a few days before Christmas break, the student body was shocked out of their chatter but the fiery appearance of a Phoenix carrying the Sorting Hat. Harry and a few other students who had seen the bird in residence in the Headmaster's office were the only ones who knew Fawkes, but the entire Hall was focused on the Sorting Hat, that looked like it was going to speak, still being carried by Fawkes as he hovered in the air.

"Residents of Hogwarts! We of the magical pursuits have a heritage to be proud of. The Houses of this school and the School itself, was shaped by the desires of four of the most powerful witches and wizards of their time. Godric, Rowena, Helga and Salazar were the best of friends," the Hat ignored the gasps of those who were ignorant of this fact and continued. "Their far-reaching, innovative thinking binds us today within the traditions of this school." The Hat paused.

"But there is another legend, older and more powerful than the benefactors of our beloved school. He was the very first wizard, Emrys. To you all today, he would be known as Myrddin or simply Merlin."

Through the hush in the Great Hall, the Hat went on. "Merlin was the very first wizard of the changing modern world and as such took it as his responsibility to care for the human world. Sadly, his name has been forgotten even within the walls of his greatest achievement … HOGWARTS!"

"But there is nothing about Merlin's contribution to Hogwarts in 'Hogwarts: A History'," came a skeptical voice from the Gryffindor table. Most of the hall turned to look at Hermione. Across from her, Harry bit down on a laugh as she blushed at the attention. Fortunately, the Hat came to her rescue.

"While it is true young Gryffindor that historical sources have overlooked or forgotten about Merlin's presence at Hogwarts, it makes the fact no less true. And I know it to be true because I was there." The Hat seemed to grin at the loose jaws around the hall and continued, "I was Godric's hat until the need arose for an impartial judge to sort the students into the Houses to make it easier for the Founders to teach them. Godric offered my services and I was imbued with intelligence and magic to make those decisions that they could not."

"Merlin was also there. It is primarily his magic holding together the very foundations of this castle. It was under his guidance that the Founders chose this site to build their school. And it was his aid that allowed the magical creatures in the Forbidden Forest to accept humans in such proximity. All this, however, is ancient history and I am not here to explain it any longer."

The Hat took a deep breath. "I am here to bring forth once again, the truth of Merlin. Within the walls of this school lives one whose line has descended from that of the Apprentice of Merlin. The one to whom Merlin passed on his powers when he passed into his eternal sleep." The Hat's voice became louder, as all around it teachers and students alike sat stunned at the revelations. Dumbledore's expression was calculating; if he could prevail on Merlin's Apprentice to help him in his efforts for the Greater Good, no-one would ever oppose him again. He listened eagerly as the Hat continued.

"I call now, on the Blood of the Apprentice to accept this Scepter of Office and release me from my Oath of Silence." A pure white staff topped with a pearl appeared before the Hat, glowing as it hovered there for a heartbeat before slicing through the air to stop directly before Harry.

"Harry James Potter, Apprentice of Merlin, accept thy Scepter and thy destiny and take thy place in the House of Merlin."

Filled with wonder at its ethereal beauty, Harry reached automatically for the white staff and as his fingers curled around the warm wood, a grinding sound echoed through the Hall. The entire Hall expanded width-wise and a separate stone table rose from the floor shaping itself like a liquid. Fawkes set the Hat down on the table and settled down there himself. He cocked his head at Harry, obviously waiting for him to come over.

Harry was still consumed by the information overload that had started the moment he took hold of the staff. Centuries of knowledge from Merlin himself and from the all the time the Hat and the Scepter had spent at the School flooded his mind and he was hard pressed to contain it all. Fortunately, his Occlumency helped to control the tide a bit. With the Scepter pulling him forward, he walked to the new seating arrangement and sat down, never taking his eyes off the staff.

But what seemed like hours to him was actually only a few minutes and he came back to himself, shaking his head wearily. The Hat welcomed him, "Hogwarts bids the Apprentice of Merlin welcome." Fawkes chirped and bumped his head against Harry's cheek, making the boy smile affectionately at his feathered friend. Then he rose and said, "I don't expect you all to believe either the Hat or me. But this staff chose me. Look up your legends and if you can't find a source, tell me and I will show it to you. But no more will I stand now for any sort of bullshit." The entire hall gasped as one.

With that Harry shook the staff one and it warped into a white wand, 14 inches long, with the pearl apparently as the core. He tapped his left arm with it once and slipped the wand up his left sleeve. Then he turned to the Hat. "I hold your Oath fulfilled and thank you for your service." Then he passed his hand over it and the Hat's appearance was renewed. It looked younger and it bowed and thanked Harry appreciatively. Fawkes fluttered up to sit on his shoulder, singing peacefully.

An intrusion rippled its way over and said, "Mr. Potter, if you could join me in my office at once, we need to talk about this event," gestured Dumbledore. Behind him, Harry could see varying emotions being expressed by his the other professors.

At that same moment an owl delivered an official looking letter to Harry. Dumbledore recognized the Gringotts' seal on it and his eyes widened in comprehension. Reading the letter swiftly, Harry rose and said, "Certainly Headmaster. But I do think it might be as good a time as any to mention that I am now Lord Potter and you should address me as such." With that he preceded up the stairs heading to the Headmaster's office, nodding to his teachers as he passed.

H~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~P

The young man stood in the pouring rain, looking down at the graves of his parents. How long he had stood there he did not know. But he couldn't bring himself to place the roses on their graves. He couldn't bear to let go.

He could hear the voices of people still talking around him, careful of his sorrow. They paid their respects even as he stood frozen in place, unable to move; unable to breath. Slowly, the mourners left; left to live their regular lives, away from Death's tragic presence. The young man felt some relief at finally being alone.

Muted footsteps sounded behind him as a slightly older man holding an umbrella walked up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder in silent support. The younger man's stoic mien slowly crumpled and he wept silently.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9 – A Meeting**

I hope everybody is ready for a ride 'cause the coaster's going up the hill now. Watch this space to see how far down it falls before coming back up again. I'll tell you when to take that deep breath and hold it.

Thank you to **Ragnar92**, **S. Rune**, **xDarklightx** and **XxxDarkLoversxxX** for taking the time to Review! Makes me feel good to see so much interest in my little story.

**S. Rune**: Imagine that I have a dart board with different characters, their types and personalities in concentric circles that I can spin. Now imagine how crazy the turns of events can get when I start throwing those darts. *wink*

Please do keep reviewing! Seeing your reviews makes my day! Enjoy this offering, and stay tuned for the next!

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Dumbledore could not have been more shocked at Harry's heritage than any of the others present in the Great Hall that morning; but he was certainly the only one unhappy with this twist of fate. It was bad enough that his authority was undermined by both his familiar and the Sorting Hat, but to actually take action against his knowledge really went against the grain.

And so it was that Dumbledore had decided to ask the boy to accompany him to his office where he would be able to grill him to his heart's content; perhaps he would need to use a bit of force. At this point, with the knowledge of Harry's capabilities, no option was too unworthy to use.

Resolved in this manner, he was satisfied when Harry agreed to accompany him. But apparently his bad day had just started. A Gringott's owl delivered a letter bearing a Gringott's seal right into Harry's hands. How was this possible!? He was sure any and all Gringott's owls coming for Harry, would be diverted to himself. It would not do to have the boy discover his fate or the Wills of his parents. Then Albus Dumbledore would have no sway over the boy.

Albus' worst fears were realized when he heard the boy say, "But I do think it might be as good a time as any to mention that I am now Lord Potter and you should address me as such." In front of all the witnesses too! Albus groaned. He was sure he had a headache coming on and his back was feeling a bit stiff as well.

The Longbottom Heir was the first to come forward and congratulate the boy. "The House of Longbottom congratulates you on reaching your majority, Lord Potter. You can count on the House Longbottom as your allies."

The Patil twins weren't far behind and even Hannah and Susan spoke for the Abbott and Bones Houses respectively. For Dumbledore this was near enough to a political disaster, especially seeing as he hadn't even congratulated the boy yet. Nor, he noted, had any of the Weasleys present. But there was one a more surprise left for him to suffer through.

As Harry shook hands with his friends and 'allies', a cultured drawl gave its own well wishes. Albus had to see this for himself, after seeing the wide-eyed incredulity his Potions Professor was directing towards the speaker.

Even though he could not believe his ears, he could not doubt the evidence of his eyes. Draco Malfoy, Heir of the House of Malfoy was adding his voice to the congratulations going around Harry Potter. And even more eye-popping, at least to those who could not fathom the concept of solidarity beyond lines, Lord Potter accepted his well wishes and shook hands with the young Slytherin cordially.

Needless to say, though Dumbledore managed to get Harry away from the throng of admirers, there was no cooperation forthcoming whatsoever. For an 11 year old, Harry Potter was far too well informed.

"I have one thing to say to you, Headmaster," stated Harry before leaving his office. "I am not going to be your pawn in this war. I know the prophecy and while it is true that Voldemort activated it and I have been pulled into it as a result, what I do with my life and how I live it, is entirely up to me. You, have no hold over me whatsoever. Please keep in mind that we can either work together or I can take off. As an emancipated member of Wizarding Society, I have no need to remain within these walls. And I can always finish my education elsewhere. Good-day, Professor."

Dumbledore had to resort to the calming effects of one of his own Lemon Drops after the boy left, leaving a decidedly sour taste in the old man's mouth.

During Christmas holidays, it was expected that Harry would stay at the castle. But Dumbledore had to revise his decision very quickly when the list of students staying back did not feature Harry's name.

Meanwhile, back in his common room, Harry had given into the good-natured badgering of several of his friends who wanted to come over to the Potter residence. Harry told Remus to see that Potter Manor up in Yorkshire was ready and open for his visitors, which Remus readily agreed to do.

Promising to speak to his guardians at the earliest about the huge guest list that wanted to celebrate Christmas with him, Harry owled Aunt Petunia that evening. He was glad that these were people who had befriended him before his new status was revealed and Petunia's reply with Hedwig the morning before break caused a ripple of excitement during breakfast in the Great Hall as most people were notified about the plans over the holiday.

There was, however, one thing Harry had to do before he went home. So he went up to see the Headmaster and asked his Head of House to accompany him. Minerva gave the password and they ascended the stairs to the Headmaster's office. With his permission, they entered and Fawkes trilled a greeting to Harry which was politely returned with a nod to the regal bird.

"Mr. Potter, to what do I owe this meeting?" enquired Dumbledore politely.

"Professor, I received a missive from Gringott's the other day that requires an urgent personal response. Although I have owled them to explain present circumstances, I would like to leave today instead of at the weekend when the holidays begin. There are certain preparations I must make for this appointment and they have to be done in person."

Dumbledore looked at him over the top of his half-moon glasses and tried, "While it is no problem for you to leave early, Mr. Potter, would you tell us where you are going? With threats of Voldemort's followers out for revenge, perhaps it would be best if you were escorted."

Harry smiled disarmingly. "It's a great idea, to be sure, Headmaster. But I'll not need an escort where I'm going. Nor with who I'm going with. I will be safer than you know." He turned slightly to rub his fingers over Fawkes' feathers, making the bird croon. "But I thank you for the thought. And for the permission. Now I really must be going; I still have to pack and I must leave at once. Thank you for your time Headmaster, Professor." He bowed slightly to both professors and exited the room.

Minerva sat down in one of the chairs before the Headmaster's desk and let out a sigh. "That went well," she remarked.

"Indeed," returned Dumbledore. But for all their differences of opinion regarding Harry, both of them hoped that he would be safe wherever he was going.

H~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~P

"You have a visitor, sir. A young man."

"Do I know him?"

"Perhaps not, sir. But he says his aunt knew your father."

"Aunt, is it? That's a new angle. Alright, show him in."

"Very well, sir."

A few minutes later, "Sir, this is Lord Harry James Potter."

Turning from his work bench, the man spoken to stood stunned for a moment, taking in the fact that when his butler said 'young man' he really had meant a young man. Standing in his doorway was a boy, surely no more than 10 or 12 years old, wearing an impeccable black suit and holding a pair of shades loosely in one hand. And yet Jarvis had mentioned a Lord …? Not showing any of this in his expression, he flashed a big smile and walked up to the 'young man', holding out his hand, "Tony Stark. Pleased to meet you. Welcome to New York.

Harry Potter smiled and shook hands; Tony noted the firm grip and confident gaze and decided then and there to listen to whatever the boy had to say.

"Mr. Stark," began Harry once they were comfortably seated with fortifying mugs of coffee before each, "I'm not sure where exactly to start from, so perhaps beginning with why I'm here would be a good enough place to start." He paused and Tony waited. "This is more awkward than I thought it would be, but I'm here because I wanted to pay my respects to your parents."

"What!" The nerve of this kid! It wasn't more than a few days ago, and on Christmas too!

"Are the names Hadrian Potter and Anne Trelawney familiar to you?" Harry asked abruptly, his posture tensed.

"Yes. Hadrian Potter was a friend on my father's and Anne Trelawney used to work for him. Later she shifted over to work for my dad for a while. How do you know those names? Looking for exotic scoop on dad?" Tony's tone was sarcastic.

Harry shook his head, eyes unflinching. "No, I don't need the scoop because I already know the scoop. Miss Trelawney is the Aunt I mentioned to your butler, and Hadrian Potter was my grandfather. I'm here because my grandfather apparently invested in Stark Industries at some point of time and the Potters are shareholders in your company. Since all of that is now in my hands, news of your parents' demise was given to me through the bank, updating me on the identity of the new head of SI … you. I thought it would be the decent thing to do, to pay my respects to the people my grandfather respected."

Tony was stunned speechless. Mentally he congratulated Harry for doing what where no-one else had ever come close to doing: shutting up Tony Stark. He reviewed the entire story for holes or inconsistencies, but found none. He knew Harry was telling the truth.

The silence stretched and Harry became fidgety. "I apologize for appearing out of the blue, but things were a bit hectic back home and I have a short time frame available to me for being here." Harry rose from his seat. "I'll take your leave. Thank you for agreeing to see me. You have my condolences on your loss. From what I've speed-read through folders before hopping across the pond, I've gathered that your father was a brilliant man far ahead of his times. It's been a pleasure to meet you Mr. Stark. I'll see myself out." He smiled a bit, picked up his shades from the table and backed away from the sofa.

"You know, my friends usually call me Tony. 'Mr. Stark' was my father and the title is too stuffy for me anyway." Tony watched as the boy came to a sudden halt and turned with a raised brow. He bounced up from the sofa and strode across to the younger man. "So, what do I call you? Mr. Potter? Or Lord Potter? Or do you prefer something more obsequious? 'My Lord Potter', perhaps?"

Tony said all this very fast as he took Harry by one arm and dragged him off to the dining room. "Jarvis, our guest is staying for dinner."

Turning to Harry he said, "Now come along, I want you to tell me all about yourself as I fiddle with my toys." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, content in the smirk it produced on Harry's face. Together they went into the basement which was full of technological paraphernalia that Harry did not recognize. The area also housed a selection of swanky cars that shone brighter than the lights.

"Do you ever even take them out?"

Tony grinned. "They've seen plenty mileage."

Harry rolled his eyes. "So what are you working on?"

"Well, before I take over as CEO of SI, I'm trying to calibrate my latest invention. Intelli-Crops. Great for combating world hunger and providing an unmatched food resource to the world. If I could bottle Peace, I'd be rich!"

Harry laughed at the quips and the two soon descended into a quirky discussion on various aspects of technology, covering flight semantics, quantum theory and small changes in Tony's personal arsenal of arsenals, stopping short when Jarvis called them for dinner. Having been invited to stay the night, Harry settled into one of the many spare guest rooms and left the next morning after paying his respects to the late elder Starks, Howard and Maria. Tony made him promise to keep in touch and even gave him a prototype touch screen cell phone with the Stark Industries insignia on the back, its tech way ahead of anything else in the market.

Harry left him with a quip. "You're just looking for a double present next Christmas, aren't you?" Tony didn't deny it, and Harry climbed into the back of his limo with a laugh.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10 – Lifestyle Makeovers**

**xDarklightx, S. Rune, XxxDarkLoversxxX, candinaru25**, you're the best reviewers anybody could ask for! Thank you so much!

**xDarklightx:** The update is coming soon!

**S. Rune:** The Harry/Tony play-off is one of the most fun relationships I've seen on FF. And I like it. Let's see how it all plays out.

**XxxDarkLoversxxX:** Sorry, but I really don't want any slash in my story. Let boys be boys! *wink*

**candinaru25:** Glad you enjoyed it! I did too! I'll try and keep up with Tony … you know how he is. Haha!

**Gytrash1167:** I guess all I really can say is, Thank you.

Keep reviewing! It makes me write … :)

* * *

Christmas at Potter Manor was a memorable night for all attendees. Apart from the top three years overall, most of the Gryffindors and a select few of the members of the other houses had been invited. Unfortunately, the Slytherins were shunned, though privately, in the beginning, until Harry threatened to cancel the party and send everybody back home at once. Ambassadors were quickly selected from the other houses who could interact safely with the Slytherins. Mollified, Harry spent more time with his Slytherin guests who included the Malfoy, Zabini and Greengrass Heirs, finding them interesting individuals, intelligent and witty and in the case of the Greengrass sisters, beautiful.

On Boxing Day, Harry urged everyone to donate to any one of the three charities that the Potters supported, calling it his Christmas gift from his guests. It was a learning experience for many of the Purebloods who saw for the first time how inhospitable conditions could be for magical children who were orphaned or given up for some reason or the other. Many who could not donate that day, spent time with the children, coming away in tears even while leaving smiles behind them. Most surprising perhaps was the care with which Draco and Daphne helped a little five year old boy who had suffered severe burns and had been left untreated too long, to overcome his shyness around people.

The three day Christmas celebrations came to an end on a somber note, a tradition that the Potter name would soon be well known for. Harry's guests went home to spend the New Year with their families. Harry and his family left the cleaning up to the army of Potter elves who were just about going stir crazy after three days of pending cleaning, since Harry had ordered them to take three days off from work. They all popped back to Peverell Vale only to find it still empty.

Petunia had naturally wanted to spend the holidays with her family and with Harry feeling guilty enough about causing the rift between them, her suggestion was readily approved. So long as she kept the emergency portkey on her person at all times, Petunia could stay at Privet Drive. Of course Harry didn't mention the wards he had set up around the property that would warn him at the least bit of trouble. He wasn't about to lose the only blood relative he had left.

Finally, tired out with too much fun, Harry managed to bathe and slide under his blankets, sleep claiming him almost at once. Remus too turned in for the night. But Anne went for a stroll to the greenhouses, the night flying by on fleeting wings until Eos returned to light the world again.

The run up to the new semester at Hogwarts was full of more training from Miss Anne who had now begun teaching Harry the deeper techniques of meditation which would positively influence his Occlumency and Legilimency. Mind magic and wandless magic made for a tough mix to get right due to its subtleties and the difficulty of getting the will to be fine tuned enough to allow the mind to wandlessly cast magic without having a focus to help. It was rigorous training, but Harry pressed on determinately.

Once back at Hogwarts, the intensity of classes took an upswing and not just for the OWL and NEWT years. The professors were insistent on getting course work finished and revision classes were eventually set for all years as the academic year wound to a close. Of course, having Hermione Granger for a friend meant that your revision sessions resembled a mini whirlwind of questions fired at you in a heartbeat with no hope of getting your answers off the ground fast enough for 'Professor Granger'. Other than Harry, of course, since he was actually miles ahead of her.

The only break in academic monotony came from the exciting news that the Potions master had suffered an injury from the vicious secret that inhabited the third floor corridor. As Harry had predicted, the Weasley Twins had already checked it out and were more than happy to share that a Cerebrus lived on the third floor of Hogwarts. Their descriptions gave nightmares to several young first years who had to be given Calming Potions by Madam Pomphrey.

Eventually, the exams rolled around and special Anti-Cheating Quills were given out for the duration of each exam, to be collected with their answer-sheets each day. They didn't have to wait long for the results either, and the Gryffindors held their own end of year celebrations in their common room on the last day of school, after the celebrations of wining the House Cup for the first time in 15 years.

The next day dawned bright and cheerful and the students of an ancient castle poured forth from her homely comforts to return home for the summer. Harry looked forward to the summer months as Remus and Petunia had planned for them to go out for his birthday. As he stepped out of the wall barrier between the magical and muggle worlds, his face brightened at seeing his family there, waiting for him. Just like every other child around him. He grinned and broke into a run.

* * *

*****Break Scene – Time Skip*****

~Like seriously Major time skip~

* * *

A tall, tanned young man, with a lithe frame, strolled down Diagon Alley, his stride as graceful as a predator on the prowl. Hands jammed in the pockets of a pair of trousers that belonged to a stylish Armani ensemble, he whistled with a careless air, head held high.

Shoppers and ordinary passers-by on the street had varied reactions to his presence. Many would stop and bow, reverently murmuring, "Lord Potter", even as he walked on with a nod. Others just as quickly turned away, not quite shunning the Boy-Who-Lived, but eager not to invite his attention.

Though not a flicker of emotion showed on his face, Harry inwardly snarled at the barely hidden fear and pretensions surrounding him. Ever since he had killed that vile murderer Tom 'Voldemort' Riddle at the end of his fifth year, people had become increasingly shifty-eyed around him. Only his tried and trusted friends still stood by him through everything.

Mentally sneering at Magical England's cowardly citizens, Harry continued towards the object of his latest visit to Diagon Alley; Gringott's Bank, London. Entering the vaulted doors, the goblins bowed to him, and lost no time ushering him to a private room for his meeting with Grimshaft, leaving gaping wizard customers in their wake. The goblin manager at the helm of all businesses for the Potter and Peverell families was already waiting for him, knowing how punctual Harry was. Here, behind closed doors the two friends dropped all formalities and greeted each other warmly.

Harry felt genuine respect for the goblin who had stood steadfastly by his side since he'd walked through the doors of Gringott's six years ago. Taking impeccable care of Harry's business, Grimshaft had increased Harry's value many times over making him the wealthiest human in England. The goblin had ensured that with bonds and shares procured through third parties and blinds, Harry held considerable sway over a large portion of wizarding and Muggle business including Vernon Dursley's drill company Grunning's, of which his uncle was now the owner, having bought out the previous guy. It was the only business Harry cared about; if it would keep his Aunt Tuni happy, he was all for it.

But today, Harry was here for a different purpose. He gestured to the file the goblin was holding. "Is it ready?"

"Everything is ready, just as you asked. But are you sure you want to do this?" pressed Grimshaft, aware that every time he had asked this question, Harry had replied in the affirmative. He waited as the silence lengthened.

"I want to Grimshaft; and I have to," Harry finally answered with a sigh. "I have to get out."

"Very well." Pushing the file across the desk, he answered Harry mute query, his tone all business. "You'll find everything inside. All documents are in order along with the information on the contingency measures and how to activate them. Once you commit them to memory, the parchment will disintegrate. Once you leave, all power of office for your British holdings goes into the care of your godfather Lord Sirius Orion Black, who will oversee their maintenance until next year (since you have reached your majority) if you return, or until the year after when you reach majority in the Muggle world if you don't return immediately. After that, sole power reverts to you."

With a breath he continued. "Remus Lupin will be your contact in the case of any breach in the safe-guards arranged for you, and he along with Lord Black will alert the DMLE Head of your whereabouts and involvement under Oath of information containment. I will be alerted immediately, however, due to the spells I have personally placed on these documents. Certain measures will be activated and we will find you."

"Last but not least, you've been accepted into MIT. Congratulations!" Harry finally cracked a smirk at the goblin's sarcastic tone.

"Its to be expected, Grimshaft. I have impeccable references." Harry drawled straight-faced, already picking up the folder and getting to his feet. "I will be leaving as soon as the new school year begins. Most of the others know what the plan is anyway, so I don't need to meet anyone else. Sirius knows what to do if Minerva asks for me." He had already shrunk the file and stowed it carefully in a concealed pocket of his jacket.

He came around the table and clasped wrists with Grimshaft in the ancient manner of greeting and farewell. "May gold flow through your hands, Master Grimshaft."

"May your enemies taste fear, Lord Potter," replied the goblin gravely, for he had grown very fond of the young man.

"Until we meet again, Grimshaft." Harry nodded at his friend and exited the room, letting his magic find the way back out to Diagon Alley.

A visit to Twilfit and Tattings' procured Harry an all-weather coat he had pre-ordered from the gobsmacked proprietor. It was an expensive piece, not the least for the different skins used in its making but the various spells that would hold the thing together as well as the additional custom Muggle charms on it, specially ordered by the customer. Since the order had been placed via house-elf, Mr. Tattings had no way of knowing who the purchaser would be. The elderly man had the shock of his life to see the wealthiest wizard in England stroll into his shop and ask for the custom made article of clothing, designed as a Muggle jacket.

The 'pure' denizens of Diagon Alley then observed carefully as their precious Symbol of the Light, the Slayer of Voldemort waltzed down Knockturn Alley in clear daylight. To their credit, business did not come to a standstill and people who trusted Harry went about their work as usual. But the busybodies were busy tattling tales of nefarious rituals that were the real source of the dark-haired Saviour's power with which he defeated the Dark Lord.

An earth-shaking explosion shook the shops along the street, pausing the rhythm of life, knocking plaster off walls and a few owl cages from the roof of Eyelops' Emporium. Bursts of magical energy, hot as fire, burnt both property and flesh, as it went singing through the air. Shops turned into rubble, trapping men and woman and children inside when the walls crumpled and the roofs fell in on them. A living carpet of crimson red wound its way out of many doorways, sinuous and stealthy, until those left alive and cowering found themselves kneeling in the life-blood of their friends and loved ones. A woman screamed, the high-pitched sound abruptly cut off when the heart stopped with a flash of green.

A mob in black robes strode forward radiating confidence with every step; each man wearing a half white mask that left the lower half of their faces open, revealing a snarl or a smirk. Dark, hooded eyes, roved back and forth among the dead and the survivors, searching with a malevolence that was palpable. One of them spoke and his voice was like the deep growl of an animal.

"Where is the Potter boy?"

A stunned silence permeated the air.

"Where is the Potter boy?" the growl was repeated by a few more masked men.

Now a shaky voice answered, "He's not here."

"WHERE IS THE POTTER BOY?" the roar of that multitude reverberated in the air, raising dust before it settled. But when it settled there was a new voice.

"Here."

Every white mask flashed and blurred as their owners swung to face the mouth of Knockturn Alley. As one, hands drew wands and several drew swords of various kinds. "Potter," the voice growled again, "for your crime of casting our Master into the realm of Death from which there is no escape, we are here to pass on you the same judgment. Should you repent now, your passing will be swift as the breath from Death's pale lips. Should you refuse this gift, your death will be as drawn out as the lives of the Eldest. Choose wisely."

There was a long silence. "Sorry, but who are you again?" finally asked the object of their attention, who was currently leaning against a wall munching on dried fruit.

"We are the Cult of the Serpent." Harry coughed behind his hand. "We follow the path of our Master Lord Voldemort." Harry's gaze sharpened on the speaker. "We have come to deliver justice to you who dared to kill so great a leader. We come to avenge our Master."

Through his little speech, the hooded and masked speaker remained oblivious to the gathering charge in the very air around them. A cold breeze began to sweep up the dust from the destruction, and people shivered at the sudden drop in temperature, drawing their robes closer about them.

"You come to avenge Riddle, do you?" asked Harry, breaking into the speaker's monologue, his tone bored, almost casual as he examined his fingernails.

"You doubt us, Potter?" the speaker demanded.

Strong shoulders shrugged delicately. "Just checking," answered the black-haired boy, raising sloe-black eyes to his enemies. "You see, I _had_ thought that with Riddle finally gone, I would have some peace from the wannabe 'bad guys' that followed that nutter." He smirked at his antagonist's snort of anger, black eyes shining. "Guess I was wrong. People like you never do know when to quit."

There was no warning.

Power crackling at his fingertips, Harry _moved_.

Five minutes later, 150 bodies littered the length of Diagon Alley.

Out of nowhere everyone hear a song. _Ridin' down the highway, Goin' to a show, Stop in all the by-ways, Playin' rock 'n' roll. Gettin'..._

Standing in the middle of the last bunch of black robes Harry spoke. "I'm kind of in the middle of something here, Tony." Harry's eyes turned green for a moment at Stark's lewd response. "I'll call you back when I finish up," he promised.

Another minute later Harry was kneeling alone in the centre of the carnage, drenched in the blood of his enemies, his knee pressing at the sternum of their spokesperson, emotionless black eyes staring into wide brown ones. "Now what was it you were saying?"

"Wha – what are you?" stammered the man, staring uncomprehendingly at the black wings sprouting from Harry's back. He coughed and spluttered, bright blood spilling from his lips when Harry's hand thrust into his chest.

Harry wiped the blood off his face with his free hand as he straightened, black eyes glittering, "I am Harry Potter, slave. Don't forget it." He turned to walk away. "Remember to tell anyone else thinking of coming for me … I will be most displeased to have to come for them after cleaning up this place of Riddle's aura. They will _not_ be shown the same mercy as you."

With that pronouncement, Harry disappeared.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11 – A Saviour's Homecoming**

Okay, sorry for the late update, but I've had a bit of a writer's block and things weren't setting well no matter what I wrote. That said, the response I've got from all you fantastic reviewers and followers and favoriters and readers is just like you … FANTASTIC! Thank you all for keeping up with this story and thank you for your patience. It's a great motivator.

I'm going to try and keep your suggestions in mind while I take this story forward, and I hope I and this story don't disappoint you. For the moment, I'd like to heartily thank **xDarklightx, Separ, ReadPaxJoy, S. Rune, Gytrash1167, Kairan1979, blagyz, Venpex, lord Hephaestus, n.n, **and**OregonDucks** for all your reviews and especially for the constructive criticism. There are some elements in your reviews that I will be covering in the upcoming chapters.

But for now, I hope this chapter will suffice. Do keep reviewing!

**Edit:** Due to a review, I need to clarify that this chapter carries on from the previous one and that Harry is where he is for a short time.

* * *

Harry arrived at Potter Cottage, Godric's Hollow, where he had chosen to live for the past three years. Sirius and Remus called it unhealthy to withdraw himself from society every summer, doing Merlin only knew what. Harry had often chuckled at that; he actually had been doing a lot of training based on the memories he had received from the Scepter of the Apprentice. He'd never been so thankful for Miss Anne's help and training in his childhood. Under her tutelage, he had become proficient enough to be able to undergo the more intensive training that being Merlin's Apprentice apparently required.

There was, however, one tiny problem. He needed to find a dragon.

Hopefully that wouldn't be a problem, but the dragon who could help him was currently nesting in the hills of Norway, if he'd got a fix on the right dragon, that is.

"Harry? Are you down in your lab again?"

"No, Moony, I'll be down in a minute."

A few minutes later Harry came down from his room on the first floor and went into the drawing room to greet Remus. "So how is everyone at Grimmauld, Uncle Moony?" Harry chimed, a bright smile lighting his usually stern features.

Remus grinned as he took in the suitcase his almost-nephew threw down on the floor, before hugging the young man. "No need to make me feel older than I already do, Harry," he protested half-heartedly.

Harry pulled away to put a hand over his heart in an exaggerated mock hurt gesture. "Naah! Would I do that to you?"

"You just did, you young brat," returned Remus easily, sitting in his preferred armchair and choosing a cookie from the spread that Harry's house-elf chef had just laid for them. "Mmm … good cookies. Tell Killy she's the best cook ever. How are you going to manage in America?"

"Dobby's coming with me. I've had Marauder's Hideout opened for me for times I want to just get away. He will stay there until I can get that charm to work properly," replied Harry, settling in opposite Remus. "When is Sirius getting here?"

"He shouldn't be too long now cub. Some mail he had to reply to," answered the werewolf vaguely.

The messy-haired teen sighed. "Remus, if you're planning any sort of going-away party, Im leaving this minute."

"Aw, come on Harry, would we do that to you?"

Resigned to his fate, Harry shook his head at the elder man and settled for reading up on his courses at MIT, both of them sitting in companionable silence. It didn't last long though.

There was a loud BOOM at the fireplace, announcing the entrance of a large party of people. Harry could make out Sirius' groans and Hermione's promises of reprimands due the next day because she didn't want to spoil the day for Harry.

Two red-headed mischief makers were the first ones through the doors, eager to escape from the proximity to the irate witch's dulcet tones. Clad in identical suits and grins to match, they greeted Harry and Remus like the family they were. Though their hands were empty, Harry knew better than to trust the evidence of his eyes where these two were concerned. Sure enough, four rather large bags filled with Weasleys Wizarding Wheases party line of products came whizzing from their pockets with a simple 'Accio'. Harry smugly confiscated them.

The gathering was a happy one, as everyone present considered each other family. They had gone through the past 5 years together, shoring up each other and being the constant familial source of unconditional acceptance that each needed. Even though Harry had brought them together, they knew that they would never leave this family.

When Harry left that evening via the portkey property of his House Ring, he left behind a bittersweet feeling of loss that this once innocent boy was gone from the land of his birth, a land that had failed to respect and honour him as he should have been; and satisfaction that he could start anew in a place where he could be just Harry Potter, the simple boy with a strong, loving heart, who used to accept people with no strings attached. Now, that boy was gone, seemingly replaced by this hardened warrior who saw the greys in life, but treated them as if they came from the blackest depths of Hell.

Meanwhile, the Boy-Who-Had-Conquered-Again arrived at the Marauders' Hideout to be welcomed by an enthusiastic Dobby, complete with vigorous ear-flapping and leg-hugging. He was glad to see that the place was clean and habitable again, and decided to spend the day exploring the house and the beach. The Marauders' Hideout had all the typical heavy protection charms and hexes active on the property, but the beach, though demarcated, was open to the Muggle public. Anyone not specifically invited to the house though, would not be able to see it, wizard and Muggle alike, and that suited Harry just fine. He would, of course, have to get used to the more politically correct term used for non-magical people here in America; they were called mundanes. Hermione, he reflected, would love it.

While he was lying on the beach soaking up some late afternoon sun, he sensed the arrival of three unfamiliar magical signatures breaching the lesser wards around his part of the beach. Tensing slightly, he rose to sit on his beach chair, adjusting the angle of the huge umbrella. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, gentlemen?" he asked without looking up at them.

The three paused for a bit. "Sir, my name is Andy MacDougall. My colleagues and I are representatives of the American Wizarding Federation."

"And your colleagues are?"

"Um … this is Morag Shaw and Casey Dunne. We're here to extend the warm wishes and a welcome to the United States from our Federation, Sir. Any help we might be able to give you, just ask. We can be reached at this address," he handed over a piece of paper, "and the Floo address is also given there should you need it."

Harry read the information on the paper before finally looking up at the men before him. "I thank you gentlemen. Did you get the papers from my bank stating that I would be taking up residence here at my family's property for the foreseeable future?"

"Yes Sir, Mr. Potter. The papers reached us several weeks ago and have been processed. You will have no problems here. There are, however, a few things we would like to talk to you about."

"Yes?"

Morag looked around shiftily, scuffing her feet in the sand. "Well, actually, Mr. Potter …"

"It's Lord now, actually." Harry cut in casually, hiding a smirk by keeping his head down, seeming highly interested in his perfectly pared nails.

"Ah, um, yes … yes, of course, Lord Potter. You see, my daughter is a big fan, and I was wondering if you old give me an autograph for her. It's her birthday next week and it would be a lovely surprise," Morag finished with a rush.

Harry waved a hand over the paper on which the Federation's address was written and changed it into a beautiful card. "How old is she and what's her name?" he asked the startled mother.

"Delia, Lord Potter, and she'll be 6 next week."

Summoning a pen out of thin air, Harry wrote the correct greetings and congratulations, signing it with a simple Harry Potter. Then he summoned an envelope and slid the card neatly into the slot, before handing it to Morag who accepted it gratefully. "Thank you, Sir."

"It's just Harry, please. I had hoped to get away from the claustrophobic environs of forced adoration in this land …," he let the sentence hang unfinished, shrugging his shoulders with a resigned sigh.

"We will try to ensure that you are not troubled, Lord – err, Harry," stumbled Andy. "But you have to know that you're are certainly no less a well known person over here than in Britain. On the plus side, while most of us are reasonable like Morag here," she scowled at him then blushed when Harry winked at her, "there may be others who just want a piece of you. Photographs, endorsements, book signings, the works. Still, it's pretty easy to be invisible here, unless you intentionally call attention to yourself."

"Oh, that's not going to be a problem, guys. I'm not looking for trouble. Had enough to last me a lifetime." Harry got up and gathered all the paraphernalia as he began leading the way back up to his house. "Now, you want to come in for a cuppa or not?"

The others caught up to him when he'd almost reached the steps. Harry turned to them and smiled, extending his arm out to indicate the sprawling house behind him, "You're my first guests here. Welcome, to Marauders' Hideout."

* * *

The sound of his phone belting out _Highway to Hell_ woke Harry a bit too early for his liking the next day. The words Anthony Stark on the screen caused him to stuff the obnoxiously-loud-for-four-in-the-morning toy under his mattress with a growl before pulling a pillow over his head.

Against all reason, that did not stop the phone from continuing to ring.

Harry groaned loudly before pulling the phone out and activating the loudspeaker. "What?" he barked.

"Where are you?" came the disgustingly awake and chirpy voice of Tony Stark. Harry was beginning to wonder why he continued to suffer the prat.

"At home. Sleeping," he replied pointedly.

"Well unless you have a thing about sleep-talking, you're awake. So, again, where are you?"

Sighing gustily Harry replied in a monotone, "In the States."

"Aw, come on Harry! You're gonna make me pull this out of you bit by bit when you've just woken up at 4 in the morning, having not yet slept off your jet-lag and you're in the country but not at Stark Towers where I could offer you the restorative powers of my all-new, but as yet private innovation of the all-purpose Medi-cure? That's just sad, Harry. It's like you don't trust me anymore."

Harry's lips twitched at the pout in Tony's voice. The man was an insufferable, arrogant berk, and had been badgering Harry to come over and join him in New York ever since he'd heard that Harry had finished school early. He's even offered to give the young Lord a job if it wasn't much too beneath him to take on the mantle of Tony Stark's assistant. Dreading Pepper's ire, Harry had immediately refused, manfully admitting being downright scared of the formidable Miss Potts when her fury was roused in the midst of her duties. Tony hadn't let off needling him about it until Harry had casually suggested he would ask Pepper what she thought of being replaced. Tony's lips had been sealed tighter than cement for a whole day after that. For Harry it was a real victory.

"What are you doing way over in Malibu?"

Harry sighed in resignation, knowing that a Tony Stark without answers was a Tony Stark at the finest consoles in the world, rooting through information that probably wasn't meant for him to see. He'd probably tracked the signal of the phone.

"I was planning to get some coffee and then get into the water, seeing as you're bent on keeping me up," answered Harry, trying to smooth down a serious case of bed-head while putting coffee grounds in the pot. He eventually gave up one as a lost case and concentrated on the other.

"But why are you there without me? Who's going to show you the sights, take you around, help you see places?" There was a very suspicious pause. "Get the girls?"

Harry face-palmed, trying to wipe away the frustrated laughter that was threatening to break through. A few chuckles got through and across the line, a satisfied Tony Stark relaxed into his comfy chair in his basement work station. "So," he continued, "are you coming over or what?"

"I'm here for some R & R, Tony. Don't you go ruining this for me."

"Me? Ruining anything? My Lord Potter, at Stark Industries we assure the best of experiences from all our products, including Moi!"

"You?"

"Hey, I live it, I breathe it. It doesn't get deeper than that. But there's something you gotta explain to me."

"I'm not going to tell you how I do it, Tony."

"Wouldn't wanna know kiddo. I'd prefer to see you in action." His teasing tone turned abruptly serious. "No, what I really want to know is why the Stark satellite is showing me that the signal from your phone is coming from an abandoned, ramshackle, sodden, damp pile of mildew out in the middle of the best, most private and prime piece of beach property that exists in Malibu. It doesn't exactly look like the property you told me about. Care to explain?"

"Err …"


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12 – Journeys Near and Far**

You are awesome readers! Thank you so much for the reviews! Shawarma for everybody! ;)

**Gytrash1167, XxxDarkLoversxxX, xDarklightx, ReadPaxJoy, Kairan1979, serialkeller and Mickyg Luvs Most Stuff**: Thank you for your reviews! Your responses are invaluable!

A special note to **Gytrash1167:** You are a great critic! Thanks for your honest opinion. I hope the small corrections I've made cleared things up a bit. And I've tried to add more information in this chapter.

A.N.: For the purposes of my story, Hagrid's fiery little pet is male.

To all my readers - - - Enjoy! :)

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_Headmaster Dumbledore,_

_I have been informed that by right of conquest, the body of the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets belongs to its slayer, namely me. As I did not require it in the preceding years, I have neglected to bring up the topic with you. However, I now have a somewhat pressing need for the artifact that requires me to inform you that a delegation of goblins from Gringott's under the leadership of one Master Grimshaft will arrive at the school on this next Wednesday, two days hence, to take care of that job for me._

_I have ascertained that the goblins will be at Hogwarts at precisely 11 a.m. on Wednesday to avoid the students witnessing their arrival or being otherwise involved. They know where to go and how to get into the Chamber and will require no more than 3 hours for the dismemberment and allocation of the Basilisk's corpse, after which they will leave._

_Either Master Grimshaft or one of the other goblins will inform you and Professor McGonagall when they leave Hogwarts' premises. I would suggest you do not try to stop them as all the legal paperwork is ready and the Ministry is also aware of this movement. Professor McGonagall has also received a copy of this letter along with a copy of the requisite papers, should you wish to peruse them._

_I thank you for your time._

_Lord Potter._

_Apprentice of Merlin._

Dumbledore sighed after finishing this letter. There were many things he could possibly have done right in his dealings with this one boy; hadn't Harry himself given him the chance to do so? And now again, after leaving not only the school, taking his NEWTS early, but leaving England altogether; from across the vast seas, he was extending a hand and telling him, Albus Dumbledore, as gently as possible, to stop being a manipulative bastard.

That stone, those Dragons, the Basilisk! No, maybe if he bothered to get to know the boy a bit better, to talk to him openly and without restraint … had tried to be … fair. Maybe Harry Potter, the Wizarding World's Saviour, would not have so blatantly left without saying a single word. And those who did know weren't talking.

The door to his office opened to let Minerva McGonagall in. "Have you seen this, Albus?" she demanded, holding out what looked like an almost exact copy of the letter on his desk. He gestured to it with a hand.

"There it lies, Minerva. Read it; it's not too different from the one addressed to you, I'm sure," replied the aging wizard shifting his saddened gaze to the darkening sky.

"And what are you going to do about it?" questioned Minerva carefully, placing the letter back in its place.

"Nothing," said Albus decisively. "The goblins may come in and do what they have to do. The stipulations are adequate and so long as the students don't see them, there will be no questions asked. That is all we need anyway."

"But to further help in that endeavour, we shall have to set up glamour charms and ask the ghosts to get a contingent to guard the route to that room. Moaning Myrtle will have to be removed temporarily. Any classes taking place outside on that day will have to be shifted into the greenhouses around the side of the castle. And I think we should let the other Heads of Houses in on these arrangements," suggested the Gryffindor Head of House.

Dumbledore inclined his head. "As you say Minerva. Call them together here after dinner and we shall discuss this matter. For now, I have a letter to reply to."

Understanding her dismissal, Minerva McGonagall nodded and silently left the room.

H~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~P

Grimshaft remained in constant touch with Harry through the communication mirrors that Sirius had given them. They had no trouble getting in or out of Hogwarts and for that Harry was pleased. The carcass of the huge snake was easily dismembered and its individual parts accounted for. Grimshaft gave Harry an estimate of 4,000,000 Galleons for the whole ensemble minus the goblin's fee. Harry had the whole of that amount put into a new separate vault together with the Basilisk's eyes, organs, blood and fangs. The majority of the meat he gave to Master Grimshaft to distribute to the goblins as he saw fit. The rest he asked Grimshaft to place in his new vault under a stasis charm.

He had a different agenda for the King of Serpent's hide though and Grimshaft had promised to see it done within the week. He didn't fancy having to go and meet a bloody big flame throwing flying lizard without any serious protective gear. He was sure Eclipse could handle it, but it never hurt to be prepared.

While the basilisk-hide armour was being made at Gringott's, Harry had appointed to himself the job of pinpointing the location of the dragons he needed to find. A few years ago, around the end of his third year, he'd had long talk with Miss Anne, Hermione and Charlie Weasley who had helped him track down the dragons he needed after discovering that he needed to find nesting mothers. As luck would have it (given Harry's own personal brand of luck), there were three nesting females close by that he could choose from. One, a Hebridean Black was on the Welsh Dragon Reserve; the second, a Chinese Fireball was currently nesting in the Rockies, while the third was a Hungarian Horntail in Norway.

Having gained a healthy amount of respect for Hungarian Horntails during the Tri-Wizard Tournament, Harry had almost decided to go with the Hebridean Black, but a word from Charlie had got him thinking.

Ever since his third year, Harry had employed his not inconsiderable resources to get every possible scrap of information on dragons that he could get his hands on. With his contacts inside the Ministry he had been able to get Macnair's own rare set of books on magical animals. Charlie and the goblins had been invaluable resources as well. But none more so than Merlin's Cavern.

Harry had inherited the Cavern after the Scepter of the Apprentice accepted him as the new Heir. Hidden beneath a 1000 year old yew tree somewhere in Wales, this was part of the personal chambers of Merlin himself. In his will, which was also found here, Merlin had bequeathed everything to his Apprentice. While exploring his new Cavern had been fun, Harry had found pertinent information about the Star Dragons in a leather-bound sheaf of parchment tucked away atop a shelf.

_'Amongst the myriad varieties and colours of dragons that exist on Earth today, none is more splendiferous than the Star Dragon. While the dragons themselves call them by another name, quite unpronounceable in the human tongue, we may translate it quite literally to 'Elder Star' or 'Father Light. So named for the large star shape on the right side of its chest the Star Dragons are close cousins of the large black dragons of the Night Shadow clan. Again this is an approximate translation. To continue, the star shape is usually white in colour, but as the Star Dragons come in as many colours as there are dragons, a white Star Dragon has a Golden star on its chest.'_

_'The Star Dragons were the teacher and peacekeepers among the dragon clans, drawing upon their vast memories such stores of knowledge as our young human race has yet to see. We who have been fortunate to learn from the Elder Dragons are truly blessed, for nowhere else will there ever be such teachers.'_

_'But many Elder Dragons chose to live their lives as soldiers and peacekeepers throughout the realm of magical beings, before choosing to share their wisdom as teachers. As such, they were widely feared but respected and their word, while law, was rarely contested. They were fair and impartial and from them, many of our wisest human kings have learnt the arts of Discipline and Diplomacy, Judgment and Punishment. There is much more yet, that we can learn from the Elder Dragons, should any humans be found worthy.'_

_'I have digressed from my initial line of thought. As I mentioned earlier, Star Dragons have a star on their chests. The dragons are born with these marks and younglings are checked over by the elders for signs of the star mark to ensure that the young dragon gets the proper guidance about his or her life. I say guidance because these dragons are born wise, so the dragons have told me, and require only to be shown the path of wisdom and fairness to grow in it.'_

_'A story once told by an elder dragon comes to mind and I put it here a warning to those that read this text after me. There has been only one documented case in which a coloured dragon (in this case purple) was born with a golden star, and the dragons remember him as the largest and most powerful of their kind, bringing wisdom and peace to a troubled land. It is believed among them, that if a coloured dragon with a golden heart were to once again be born on this Earth, it was to be taken as a sign that terrible and wonderful things were going to happen._

_'Fortunately, at the time of this writing, in the year 780, the last purple Star Dragon is a memory among the eldest of dragons. It is to be hoped that this revered dragon, while welcome for its wisdom, may never be seen in our lifetimes. I shall write again, but for now Nimue is calling and I must see to the training of my troublesome apprentice. More on their mating habits later.'_

Harry had thought that Merlin was being cheeky, but the old pervert actually had written a short chapter on the mating habits of his apprentice and the Dragon Priestess. He's flipped past those pages quickly, red in the face. Fourth year was tricky enough hormonally without those words in his brain. But he'd finally found the missing piece of the puzzle.

One of the rarest and oldest types of dragons that were now well and truly extinct, the Star Dragons were the older genetic cousins of the Norwegian Ridgebacks, and at times a Norwegian was known to show characteristics like its elder cousins. These dragons would usually only live out their exceptionally long lifetimes and die without producing another Star Dragon.

With his insane amount of luck, he was supposed to find either old Nobert or another Star Dragon that would probably bring destruction to Earth. Ruddy perfect.

Harry spent that next entire month of August between Malibu, perfecting the localized Confundus Charm on Marauders' Hideout, and Potter Cottage discussing plans with Hermione and Miss Anne. The variant on the Confundus Charm was turning out to be easier that Harry had expected, while the dragons were refusing to cooperate. The charm, once properly cast, would show a perfectly good house to those on the house guest list and a 'ramshackle, abandoned, damp pile of mildew' to just about everyone else, including Animagi, but wouldn't bar post owls or Hedwig. The owl in question, who had been perched in on some of these meetings, hooted appreciatively at Hermione, while glaring at Harry for forgetting. Suitable chastened, it took Harry 12 mice and 7 bacon rinds to earn his way back into Hedwig's good graces again.

The dragons though seemed to be restless according to the reports Charlie Weasley gave them early that week from the charms monitoring them. Harry hoped Nobert would still be in Norway at least when he finally got there, or he would have to wait for the dragon keepers to track him down again. A dragon in motion was notoriously difficult to get a reading on.

While the wizarding public was ignorant of its hero's return, the hero was aware of the ticking Bombarda Hex his continued existence in magical England had become. The Daily Prophet, feeling safe in Harry's departure for 'parts unknown', had seen fit to put his Diagon Alley 'escapade' on the front page calling it a 'Wanton Massacre from Mistaken Identity' by the boy hero. He had been accused of being a trigger happy wand-slinger who shot first and asked questions later.

The Ministry was between a rock and an extremely hard place. Those who had seen the encounter in Diagon Alley were mostly of the opinion that while Harry may have gone too far, he had only been trying to ensure everyone's safety. After all, it hadn't been too long ago that he had defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Surely any lackey or supporter of You-Know-Who deserved the same treatment as their Master.

But the DMLE was not so complacent. By rights, even though Harry may have had to take pre-emptive action, he should have shown enough restraint to not kill everyone. Many in the Auror ranks had seen the final battle on the Hogwarts grounds and knew of Harry's special abilities. Though he and anyone who might have known as to how he came by them were keeping their lips tightly shut. Unable to gain control of a powerful political potential like the Boy-Who-Lived and the Potter Heir, the Ministry had simply turned their collective backs on him.

Several news articles appeared over the next week slandering Harry, and Rita Skeeter relished the opportunity to get her claws into the impenetrable hide of the 'Potter brat' when the Daily Prophet asked her return to their employ and use her 'impeccable journalistic instincts'.

It was Friday, a day before Harry was supposed to leave for Norway that Rita Skeeter's article came out on the front page of the Daily Prophet. Unlike the other articles, this one smacked of malice and contempt, its author reiterating that her suspicions about the young Potter boy during the Tri-Wizard tournament were now seen to be well-founded and that the wizarding public would be wise to stay out of harm's way by simply staying away from Harry Potter. Better yet, the article suggested, it was the responsibility of the Ministry to ensure the safety of its innocent citizens by removing all threats from their peace-loving community.

That evening, a fireball crashed through the roof of the Daily Prophet office just off the hidden Ministry building in London. As the orange and black flames roiled around the object in the middle, a high-pitched keening rose from its center, rising in intensity until the glass began to creak and bend and finally shatter, raining sharp shards of Unbreakable Charm reinforced glass down on the terrified employees of the Daily Prophet.

The fire began to spread, individual imps of flame jumping from desk to desk, appearing to moving at random. They stopped at every desk, singeing, scorching, breaking, burning, peering into every face they came across. A few of them stopped to admire themselves in a roof to ceiling mirror for a few moments before a sharp screech from the now standing flames made them scurry on their way, dancing over the smooth face of the mirror. Seconds later it disintegrated into dust.

Finally, in a tacky but comfortable room tucked away in a far corner of the offices on the second floor, the flame imps slid under the door resulting in a shrill scream. Rolling and shaking in what looked like laughter, they gathered around the edges of the door, merging into a single flame until the wood turned into charcoal.

A moment later, the black flames swept into the room, hissing and crackling like a fire in a grate, and as the occupant looked on, they morphed into a solid human form and perched on a corner of the large desk. "I really don't like it when newspapersss don't tell the truth like they're sssuppossed to." The voice was hoarse and garbled because of the flames and the smoke, but no less clear. "All my life people have been trying to tell me what I should do, what not, who I should follow, who not, and what I should believe and … what not."

The morning edition of that day's Daily Prophet was tossed onto the table before the woman's wide unblinking eyes. It was blackened and charred but not illegible. "You like to write funny ssstoriesss," the voice hissed, leaning in uncomfortably close, and Rita Skeeter fought not to choke on the thick black smoke. She looked at the paper and her head shot up again, horned glasses perched precariously on her nose, as understanding dawned; two clear black unblinking eyes stared back at her.

"Tell me, bug, did you like Voldemortt more than me, hmm?" A finger of flame reached out to trace her hair. She wrinkled her nose at the acrid burnt smell, head swimming with too much smoke inhalation. With a start she realized the fire demon was waiting for an answer.

"N – no. No, my Lord," she stuttered.

"No?" the voice seemed amused. "Then why did you never print anything againsst him when he wass around, I wonder?" He paused as if thinking. "That musst mean you like me." He came around the table, circling her chair, his voice a whisper. "If you like me, you must write about me. About who I am and what I have done. The truth, yesss?" Rita could have sworn she saw a forked tongue, but the flames were agitated now; it could just have been her imagination.

"You think Voldemort was bad, don't you, Missss Ssskeeterrr? But you forget … Voldemort had 50 yearsss on me. Annd … you never gave me the chanccce to prove myssself. Instead you're planning my sending-away party. And now I am a bit upsssetttt." The demon swept to the door frame, the imps still playing around the room. "You sssee, I can do what even dear old Voldemort could not, though he very much wished to." He exited the room and the heat diminished slightly but his smoky words remained hanging on the air. "Sssee if you wish, but remember I warned you firsst."

Wrapped in his flames, the demon left the way he had come and the dancing imps too disappeared one by one. Floating high in the air above the most important magical building in England, he opened his hands wide and hoped that his friends had duplicated everything important or else had it transported out and cleared the area. It was now almost 10 in the night and the sky was clear. It was time.

With a roar a triage of bright black and orange flame-balls crashed through the Ministry of Magic, tearing, breaking, and burning their way through brick and stone, wood and glass, moving with a mind of their own even as another triage followed them, released from ghostly hands in the sky.

With the mentality of Bludgers, the flame-balls burst and burnt their way through everything in their path; it was only fortunate that there was no-one working late that night. Within minutes the entire structure irrespective of any charms placed on it, fell in on itself, the charred remains the only reminder of the stronghold.

When the carnage was over, and the flames had finally petered out, a ghostly black form flew over the wreck that was the Ministry, inspecting the damage through empty black eyes. The golden elevator was the only spot of colour in the wreckage that he could see. Swooping down to a particular point, he lifted out from among the rubble a Ruby a little bigger than his fist. He would relocate this to ensure that the Secrecy Laws still held firm. He wasn't that upset after all.

Eclipse left the scene when the Aurors started popping in. He needed to get back home and tune the wards on all his properties before he left.

He had a dragon to catch.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13 – Draconian Intervention**

Woah! I've had some fantastic review from **HarnGin, Adri1577, ReadPaxJoy, Mickeyg Luvs Most Stuff, Gytrash1167 and serialkeller!** Thank you all for following this story so closely!

It was pointed out to me, however that if it appears in print, it is NOT slander. Slander must be spoken. Libel is written/printed. This is in relation to the line "Several news articles appeared over the next week slandering Harry...", in the previous chapter. Just have to put that out there now because I didn't want to edit the chapter and send you all a 'new chapter' alert.

Now, onward with the story. It follows on from the previous chapter. This one, I will admit, seems a bit forced to me. But I would still like to hear your thoughts about it. So do review!

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The cold winds threatened constantly to blow him off the side of the mountain if it couldn't freeze him to his bones. As he continued to climb doggedly, he failed to fathom how muggles, any muggle at all, could possibly survive in such a place without the providence of a Heating Charm. Without that, Harry was sure he would have given up about a 1000 feet ago. Flying would have been an even worse disaster. Although, training in this kind of weather would make any team tough. Harry suddenly found new respect for Victor Krum.

Not daring to stop for too long, Harry peeled open a map crumpled from being hastily shoved into a pocket too many times. The directions and terrain had been roughly scrawled by a colleague of Charlie's who was from Norway. The map, blessed by Messers Moony and Padfoot, showed Harry's location with a red dot. In relation to this dot, the cave where the dragons were understood to have settled in was no more than 500 meters away. Harry huffed sending a few stray snowflakes off-course, before he wearily began pushing his way to the cave.

Slogging over to the vast entrance of the cave, Harry paused for a moment at its lip, gazing out into the world laid out at his feet, deeply appreciative of its wild, primitive beauty. Then remembering that he had his back to the cave opening that was likely the residence of a highly dangerous dragon, he entered the cave and looked for signs of a dragon at home. Locating relatively recent claw gouges in the rock, he looked for and found a small outcrop that would provide some shelter from the elements for his stuff while he explored the cave.

While venturing inside the cave of a nesting pair of dragons was classified as a highly dangerous (read, resulting in possible death by maiming or gouging or disembowelment), Harry was undeterred. Well, yeah, it wasn't like he had a choice; apparently being an Apprentice meant you got to have your own dragon who would be bonded to you. But maybe he was just on a major magical adrenaline rush from either last night's … uh, event.

All of magical Britain, meanwhile, while preparing to go to work and take their school-going children to Platform 9 and ¾, was waking up to the fact that there was going to be no more Daily Prophet with their morning tea. Rumours were flying of something even more inconceivable as those who had been awake and busy the previous night were spreading the news that the building of the British Ministry of Magic was nothing more than a large grey pile of crumbling ash and rubble. Cornelius Fudge was in tears.

And from that day, though her whereabouts were always known by a particular group, former Daily Prophet gossip reporter Rita Skeeter was never seen in wizarding England again.

But even as Dumbledore's net of spies found one very reluctant former Daily Prophet employee who spoke of dancing flames in the night, Harry Potter found himself staring at a wondrous sight. A large nest made of bales of hay that had been taken whole off farmlands and leaves and vines from the forests made the rocky floor of the cave soft for the Hungarian Horntail mother who sat curled around a clutch of dark grey eggs, her tail carefully encircling them while she rested her head on a nearby ledge.

Charlie was quite sure she was the same dragon they had brought in for the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Unfortunately, in the run for the golden egg, the dragon had unknowingly trampled on most of her eggs and what few were left did not hatch for some or other reason. The heartbroken dragon had been reclusive until Nobert had come hunting in her part of the forest. Several months later, the anxious handlers had happily reported that the two were 'dating'. They had named them Freya and Frey, and the Lord and his Lady could often be seen flying together over the reserve. And now they had retreated to this cave so the human-wary dragon mom could experience the joys of motherhood in peace.

Harry ventured a bit further into the cave, looking for Nobert and found the father of the new eggs slumbering peacefully a little to the side of the nest. He would be responsible for feeding and defending Freya until the eggs hatched. Then they would take I by turns to watch the little dragons until they were old enough to fly back to the reserve for safety.

Fortunately, Harry did not have to wait long for the eggs to hatch and the intervening three weeks had been productively spent making himself familiar to both dragons, even at times having short conversations with Nobert.

The dragon was a true specimen of his clan; strong, courageous, curious and intelligent. Having once seen the young human sleeping under the shelter of rock, he had covered him with one huge black wing, protecting him from the cold. And when he woke, Nobert greeted him courteously. "Welcome to my cave, youngling."

It had been most amusing for the huge black dragon to see the little figure jump awake and fumble for his wand, before craning his neck to look almost straight up into the dragon's face. But the youngling had shown courage, bowing and returning his greeting with equal courtesy. "I thank you for letting me stay, Wise One. I mean you and your family no harm." The dragon gave a rumble of acknowledgment, the sound coming from deep in his chest. "My name is Harry Potter," continued the little figure.

"Harry Potter," Frey repeated, his tone a question. "Were you not a friend of a large man called Hagrid?"

"You remember?" asked Harry shocked.

"I remember warmth and comfort and love for the first few weeks of my life, before I came to the reserve. And I believe I also remember visitors." Nobert looked down at the young man.

Harry blushed. "It was fun to see a dragon. We're never supposed to see any because the Ministry has classed all dragons as dangerous. Besides, Hagrid is a good man and would never have let any harm come to you," he defended stubbornly.

Nobert had nodded and changed the topic. "Tell me, youngling, why are you here?"

That simple question led to Harry narrating the entire tale of his life. Miss Anne's tutoring, his schooling at Hogwarts, his new status as the Apprentice of Merlin, courtesy the Scepter of the Apprentice and his own personal changes as a result of that, and his present need to find a Star Dragon to aid him; Harry laid it all out.

Nobert nodded. "I understand. My grandsire was a Star Dragon, youngling and I have learnt much from our Elders in these short years. I am of the lineage, but because I was not chosen, I am not a Star Dragon. However, I believe I can aid you."

"How?"

"One of my sons born of Freya is a Star Dragon. Should he choose you, you will never more be parted in this life. If not, then I will think on what may be done."

Harry was overwhelmed. Bowing low he answered, "I thank you Wise One. This would be a great gift indeed. I … I don't know how I can thank you enough."

The dragon snorted, black smoke curling up from his nostrils. "I believe I can help you find a way. It will be another week at least until the hatchlings see the light of the sun. Till then, Harry Potter, I shall teach you what it means to be an Apprentice. Learn well."

Speechless, Harry had to swallow and clear his throat before he was able to reply. "Thank you, Sir."

H~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~P

Far away, in the Philippine Archipelago, is the island of Luzon, a haven for magical creatures. Its strong natural wards and shields keep all but the most powerful magical beings out. It was a testament to the strength of Voldemort, that even at the height of his reign he was never able to set foot on this island.

It was to this island that Nobert took Harry for his week-long intensive training. The island of Luzon has a lake. The lake contains an island. This island contains a lake and this lake contains another island. The number of natural wards that this natural concentric set-up threw up was astounding. Harry could feel their power as he passed through them, thankful that he was allowed to do so. The feeling of power grew, the deeper one delved into the circle. The last island in the centre was the stronghold of an ancient being, who kept the wards intact and guarded against all visitors.

Having once passed the message to the Ancient that he was on the island with a trainee Apprentice, Nobert and Harry settled down on the outermost island. Since this was to be a crash course, Nobert decided the best way to teach him would be by placing the knowledge directly into Harry's mind, from where he could examine and learn from it in time.

Except that opening your mind to a dragon's infinitely more powerful one was not an experience most wizards could survive. The overload could either kill Harry or at best leave him in a vegetative state. But it was the only option they had at the moment. Harry was thankful that he made sufficient arrangements for his current plans, should his recovery take longer than a week. There was no doubt in his mind that he would survive the information transfer.

Seated in the middle of a symbolic set of concentric circles in the sand, each double the size of the innermost, Harry could feel his heart thumping in his chest. It was dusk, the sky was a rosy hue and not all the stars had left yet. He wondered what his family was doing. Hermione must be going spare by now, badgering Charlie to track down Nobert and himself. He knew the team back home had been keeping a careful track of his movements, but passing the barriers into Luzon would have cancelled them.

And Tony … dear insufferable Tony with his own brand of witticisms born of a generally sarcastic view of life since his parents passed away. Pepper had often thanked Harry for his stabilizing influence on the billionaire and Happy was glad he had to do a lot less work when Harry was around to keep the man-boy in hand.

He'd spoken to the man a month ago and if he got home, his phone would be overflowing with messages and missed calls from Tony, maybe a few less from Pepper even. Harry realized he would be sorry to never see everyone again if this draconian experiment did not go well. He smiled with a heavy heart remembering Tony recent quips about his journey to become a man. He shook his head fondly, lost in his thoughts.

The great thump of air from Nobert's massive wings broke him out of his reverie. The last star was just passing over the horizon as the dragon settled down opposite the boy wizard but outside the circles. The rings would help in amplifying and harmonizing their mental connection, providing a measure of stability for Harry, as well as providing him with nutrients through the skin for the duration of his trance. As the sun peeked over the horizon, they stared into each others' eyes, bright burning green into dark bottomless black.

"Are you ready, Harry Potter?" rumbled the great dragon directly into his mind. Harry flinched slightly but nodded, "Yes Wise One, I am ready."

With that, Harry could feel the dragon's foreign mind moving into his own. He fought against the instinct to raise his Occlumency shields and sat stiffly motionless as the connection continued to broaden. Nobert looked through his memories. The five years of his own training as an Apprentice were brought up and scrutinized.

Under the dragon's mental gaze, Harry watched his own training and his transformations into his Animagus and Hybrid forms; the changes in his psyche as a result of absorbing the essence of the Voldemort Horcrux in his head before it was expelled; and perhaps most shocking of all, Harry's transfusion with demon blood at Voldemort's hands in a final act of vengeance before his death. He felt the dragon pause at this knowledge and wondered how it would affect them.

Now that he knew of these changes, Nobert could smell the charged blood in Harry's veins. It made him unique indeed; a human with demon blood that had combined safely with the already present Basilisk venom and Phoenix tears. Such a thing should not have been possible. But now, thanks to the unpredictable properties of his blood, Harry Potter was the only wizard on the planet who magic had no control over.

Neither, surmised the dragon, did Death. The demon blood would negate any hold that Death would have had on a denizen of the human world. But as a part demon, phoenix hybrid who would soon be joined to a dragon, Harry was in a class of his own.

The dragon tugged Harry's mind to join him in a mindscape of Luzon. Seated there in the same manner as their bodies, he spoke, "It is time for you to hear of the history of the relationship between the dragons and the few chosen humans. Merlin was one of these, as was Nimue, the Dragon Priestess, descended from the first of their kind, the Blessed Darius and Sarala. My ancestors taught yours' about magic and how to use it for the betterment of both humans and magical creatures. Dragons and Phoenixes are the eldest races in the magical worlds and each of us has aided humans in various ways. And now you are joined by both."

"Star Dragons have always joined with the Chosen to help them in their tasks. Many of them died to keep the peace in the world, but another pair has always come forward. It seems that since your fight with Voldemort did not call for the aid of the dragons, there is another threat in your future. One that you must aid the world of magic to fight. It is for this reason why the Dragon Priestess has set you on this path, to learn of your destiny and if need be, to fulfill it when called upon to do so."

The dragon began to withdraw from Harry's mind. "Now learn of your past and of your duties in the memories I leave for you then return to us at the shelter. Your dragon awaits you there."

Removing himself from the wizard's mind, Frey looked at the young human, a child even in human years, yet one who had faced many dangers and risen above them. There was yet one thing more that he had not considered.

As he flew back to his mate and hatchlings, Frey wondered how the alchemic magic of the philosopher's stone had affected the youngling's body.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14 – Simulacrum Magic**

Good to see the responses again! So exciting to see all those reviews!

Okay to clear up a few things, Harry managed to absorb the essence of Voldemort, his nature, his being into himself, including, yes, his memories. Also, canon Basilisk venom and Phoenix tears transfusion actually happened for my story too. The demon blood was added later by Voldemort. So, yes, this Harry is part demon with demon blood, basilisk venom and phoenix tears in his veins. No part dragon yet, and not ever.

Want more of Marvel, eh? *evil chuckle*

Thank you to **Adri11577, Gytrash1167, Separ, OregonDucks, hash4uall, xDarklightx, serialkeller, blagyz, Daku-DarkNess316, Kairan1979 and Wulffe** for their reviews! Very welcome and much appreciated!

Now here's your next chapter! Happy Reading!

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While Harry was spending his week learning about past Apprentices from Nobert's memories, Harry was in America, taking in the sights and sounds and flavours of New York with Tony Stark. Pizzerias and pubs, nightclubs and dancing, statue of liberty and fairs, Tony took Harry everywhere and the park, taking time out from his increasingly difficult and time-consuming role as CEO of Stark Industries.

Pepper tried her best to clear Tony's full schedule as much as possible so the two friends could spend time together, getting up to all sorts of boyish hi-jinks. She and Happy often shared their thoughts on their unpredictable boss, and both had watched the cheerful boy grow into a strong, stable and popular man, who pulled off the unconcerned billionaire act with the Stark style his father was known for. But behind all that was a face that only those closest to Tony had seen, and Harry was the only one who had got close enough to do something about it.

Since the first time he'd visited, Harry had started coming over every year to spend Christmas with Tony. Though the famous Potter parties had continued back home, Harry had even then recognized Tony's loneliness and chose to do something about it, banking heavily on the fact that he was a young boy out on the streets of New York, no matter that he was a Lord elsewhere. Pepper had initially threatened and badgered Tony out the door to accompany Harry and show him the city, but it had quickly become an annual thing with the two friends. They relished the time spent together, either outside doing something so simple as eating sticky cotton candy or down in Tony's workshop, tinkering with Tony's toys.

While initially Tony had taken on the role of the long-suffering elder brother made to watch an irritating sibling by the parent-ish Pepper, that attitude had soon changed to something else. The genuine acceptance and even affection that made Harry literally glow, brightened the somber moods and empty corridors of Stark Tower and before he passed away, even Jarvis had approved of the young man's jovial presence in their home.

It took time and Tony's exasperating attitudes never changed in the public mind, but at home, Tony Stark and Harry Potter were more like brothers than best friends. It had become Pepper's maxim: You need a Potter to get a Stark down to earth. Tony's protests over that pronouncement went unheard, and Harry became the go-to man whenever the household could not handle the resident moody Stark.

With so much time spent in each others' company, they had started recognizing each other's little traits and quirks and knew almost automatically what the other needed. But this time, Tony could tell that something was … off … with Harry. While he was displaying the same affable, jovial openness, and sharp wit that could follow Tony through bogs of otherwise mind-numbing information and self-absorbed ramblings alike, there was something different about the young Brit that Tony could not put a finger on. Unfortunately the JARVIS program was not yet up and running, so he didn't have an all-knowing A.I. to turn to for advice either. Yet.

In general, Tony had always respected Harry's occasional reticence and his privacy, but after a week of staring at the man who unexpectedly ignored his gaze, he finally couldn't take it any longer. "Who are you?" he blurted.

The younger man turned and smiled distractedly at him, "I'm Harry. Surely you know that by now, Tony." He raised his brows at his friend's frustrated expression, and turned back to his work.

Tony sighed and glanced down at his notes. His flippant attitude had rubbed off the boy even when he was a teen and it was getting worse. Getting a taste of his own medicine wasn't Tony's greatest moment, although Harry was the only one who was allowed to do so. "You know what I mean," he continued doggedly. "You haven't been yourself for the past week. Either something's wrong, or you aren't you. Which is it?"

Bent over the table, peering through a microscope, Harry replied dismissively, "You're being fanciful. Stick with Sex God; it suits you better."

Stalking over to the man, Tony caught his shoulder intending to swing him around to face him and didn't miss the sharp flinch under his hand. But he had barely registered that reaction when he flung his hand into a bowl of water nearby, staring at Harry's shoulder. It was smouldering, smoking right before his eyes, the shirt burnt and scarred around the edges. Hastily wiping his hands off on some paper towels, he demanded, "What are you?"

Harry sighed. "This," he murmured "is the only problem with my Simulacra. Damn you Tom Riddle." He raised his head to find Tony watching him warily, knowing he had heard everything. "Don't worry I'm not going to harm you. I just have a sort of … condition. As far as I know, it's a rare case and I'm the only afflicted party. But I do know it's not contagious, except that anyone who touches me right now is likely to get burnt. It doesn't usually happen," He gestured weakly to Tony's hand, "Sorry about that."

Tony brushed it aside. "Can I help? Have you had your blood tested?"

"I've been doing that right here in your lab for two years now, Tony. The results are conclusive and there's nothing I can do about it. Mine is a special case and even my doctor back home agrees."

In fact Severus had been the one to identify that Voldemort had managed to get his hands on the blood of a very specific type of demon. A Greater Demon called Azazel. A fallen angel no less. The blood was very potent and should have burnt Harry up from the inside, causing an extremely slow, drawn-out lingering death, but he'd survived. Again. Severus himself had barely survived getting burnt by the heated blood in the initial testing stages.

Further tests had proved that the basilisk venom and phoenix tears had cancelled out the more harmful properties of the demon's blood, instead integrating it into Harry's blood, making him near indestructible, not to mention changing his features. The last he'd been able to pass of growing up, but he knew how much things had changed.

Sighing heavily, he came to a decision, while waiting for the itching in his shoulder to stop as the skin healed itself. "Just wait for a few more days, Tony. I'll explain a few things about myself.

Tony was now looking at his shoulder with more interest than wary suspicion. "And drop that look. I'm not going to be your lab rat," Harry snapped.

Tony retreated with his hands up. "You can't blame me for wanting to know how you managed to heal so fast. It could be a potential revolution in the military and medicine fields. I just want to examine how it works."

"Well you can't," replied Harry flatly, turning away towards the exit. It slid shut.

"Open that door, Tony," Harry's voice was velvet smooth and Tony shivered at the sound. But he just had to say his piece.

"Look, just listen for 2 minutes, okay! I've looked you up. Long time back. I mean, I'm me. There are just no records of a Harry Potter anywhere in Britain beyond elementary school level. In fact you don't exist from the age of 11." He moved around to stand by the panel beside the door. "Funny that you came to visit me around then." Noticing Harry's tense posture he opened the door, "I don't care that you don't exist where you come from. God knows everybody has skeletons in their closets. Well, except me; I have much cooler stuff in mine." Harry expression slipped a notch below furious and a brow rose elegantly. "Yeah yeah. I never checked on you again. And I honestly don't care. If you don't want to tell me, that's fine. But if you do, I'm not here to judge you. I hope you know that." Not looking to see whether Harry left, Tony walked deeper into his workshop, rummaging loudly among the boxes stored there.

Harry sighed to himself and left the basement. Locating Pepper, he explained that he would have to leave for a while, but that he would return in a few days. Mentioning a misunderstanding with Tony, he asked Pepper to let him know whenever the man chose to emerge from his workshop.

"I do wish you weren't leaving Harry. Happy's going out with a friend and its going to be quite dreary at dinner without you keeping Tony in line," she quipped with an eye roll. Harry laughed.

"I'll be back soon, I promise. There are just a few things I must take care of first." He turned to go, then stopped long enough to say, "Pepper … when you ask him, and I know you will, tell him I said it's okay to tell you." He waved to the now curious PA and left the premises.

Way across the world, just waking from his trance, exhausted in both body and mind, Harry slumped to the ground. The moment he woke, the Simulacra he had formed dissolved and the memories of their activities added to his consciousness, forcing a groan from him. 'What a brilliant day', he though ruefully.

His head pounded as he forced himself to think of the mayhem he had caused in England and the confusion and hurt he had left behind in New York. 'Hermione's going to give me an earful when I get back, dragon or no dragon', he mused tiredly. With that thought he rose, straightening slowly, drawing energy from the island itself as he had learnt from the memories, until he felt his fatigue wash away. His body now thrumming with the energy of Luzon, he transformed into a Black Phoenix, with sleek black feathers and a long flowing tail. His plume and feather ends were an iridescent shade of blue-green but his eyes were the same burning green of his human form. Midnight arched his long neck skyward and flung his wings wide open, singing a wild, primal song filled with the delight of natural power. With the song still echoing in the hills and vales for several miles around he shadow-flashed straight to the cave of the Star Dragon-kin.

Nobert was waiting for him. Morphing back to human form he bowed as Frey spoke, "Welcome Apprentice."

"Thank you, my friend. Your gift was indeed extremely helpful. I have never felt so alive." Harry shivered; the tendrils of power still running through his body to join with his magical core.

The dragon rumbled approvingly. "Come then, your dragon awaits. And you have still to make your peace with Freya.

Harry hung his head, wracking his brains for a suitable way to ask forgiveness from the new dragon-mom. After a long moment he decided to just go with the truth and hope for the best. The truth was all he had anyway and the memories told him that the dragon clans valued honesty.

Frey nudged him into the cave proper, where Freya sat curled next to the nest, keeping a watchful eye on the eggs, several of which seemed to be rather active, rocking side to side. When Harry entered, she turned her huge horned head fully towards the boy, shifting menacingly. Conscious of his proximity to both dragons, Harry stopped and bowed, keeping his eyes just below Freya's. He did not want to seem like a supplicant after all; he was just showing his respect to the new mother.

"Freya, I have come to ask your pardon for my part in what happened these short years ago. I have already described to you why I was there, and why you were brought there along with the others. I ask your pardon again for our fault for the loss of your hatchlings then."

Freya replied quietly, "We have spoken of this youngling, and while my anger still burns at my loss, I am not beyond forgiveness. You have pleased me with your forthright honesty and my Frey has told me of your quest for a Star Dragon. One of mine from this birthing has the aura of that which you seek. Wait a while and you shall be united with your wyrd-mate."

And indeed, half an hour later, Harry was greeted with a sight only a few can boast of having seen. The hatchlings broke through their shells, eager to taste the wild mountain air, and rose out towards freedom, shaking off the egg shells and opening their little wings as Harry had seen Nobert do so long ago.

Hatchlings just a few scant minutes old are scarcely aware of anything except the loss of warmth and scramble immediately for the warm sides of their mother. The little ones were black like their parents complete with little tail spikes and knobs on their backs that would grow into formidable ridges as they grew older. A mix of Hungarian Horntail and Norwegian Ridgeback, Charlie had warned, would be one of the most lethal types of dragons in the world. And yet, as Harry looked at them lying pressed against Freya absorbing her body heat, they seemed as cute as Nobert had at this age. He looked at the father and found him setting several bales of hay alight and placing them at a safe distance around Freya, so the hatchlings would be well warmed from all sides. Raising his hand, Harry did the same to a few more bales, pushing them into place to create a semi-circle of sorts around Freya. Both dragons nodded approvingly.

Harry sat there long into the night, watching the little dragons and didn't realize he'd drifted off to sleep until he woke the next morning under the shelter of a wing. As he moved to sit up, a soft mewl of discontent froze him into stillness and looking down he found a black baby dragon lying inside his jumper, which looked like it had been torn through. The little fellow was still asleep and choosing not to wake him, Harry cast a Cushioning Charm on the hard rock to make himself comfortable while he drifted off to sleep again.

A few hours later, when his stomach rumbled, he woke to find a pair of curious green eyes staring back at him from a sharp black face, bare inches away from his nose. "I think he likes me," murmured Harry to himself, but the echo allowed him to be heard by both dragons.

Nobert strolled over. "Indeed he does, Apprentice. This is my son whom I have named Wyrd, for he is the child of Fate." With a delicate claw, he rolled the kit to the ground with a soft thump and turned him onto his back, the little fellow pawing playfully at his father. Harry sat up and stretched, straightening out the kinks from sleeping on cushioned rock. But mid stretch, the little dragon caught his attention. For there on his chest was a small shining mark placed on the right side. Tiny as it was, Harry was sure it was definitely a star. But it wasn't just any star and Harry's mind flew back to the weathered pages of Merlin's old journal.

_'A story once told by an elder dragon comes to mind and I put it here a warning to those that read this text after me. There has been only one documented case in which a coloured dragon (in this case purple) was born with a golden star, and the dragons remember him as the largest and most powerful of their kind, bringing wisdom and peace to a troubled land. It is believed among them, that if a coloured dragon with a golden heart were to once again be born on this Earth, it was to be taken as a sign that terrible and wonderful things were going to happen._

Harry couldn't stop himself from gaping at the prominent Golden Star on the dragon child's chest, gleaming innocently at him in the morning light.

H~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~P

Drawing upon his memory-lessons, Harry spent the day with his new dragon friend, allowing the magical creature to get to know his scent. It would form the basis of their bond in later days added to the connection of their minds. He then took off for England. He needed to get back in touch with his family back home and fill them in on what had happened. And as he needed to get in unchallenged, he shadow flashed directly back into his bedroom at Potter Cottage, pleased that his wards had held, keeping unwanted visitors out.

The moment he arrived, a Potter house-elf popped in to say, "Master Harry, your are needed in the Library, Sir."

Harry nodded. "Tell them I'm coming Tippy."

A half later, having showered and wearing clean clothes, Harry popped down into the Library where a serious discussion was being led by Sirius. He barely had time to giggle at that lame joke, before being engulfed by a mass of brown hair. Hermione hugged him till he was sure he'd heard his lungs hiss and managed to let out a squeak. Immediately his best friend let go of him, allowing to pull in great gasps of air, giving her a thumbs up in lieu of words he didn't have the air to form anyway.

Sirius came up next, and hugged his truant godson affectionately, demanding a full account of all his adventures at the soonest. Remus joined in next, followed by Dora to whom Remus was now engaged. The twins weren't present as they had to go home for a family dinner in honour of someone's birthday from Molly's family. As it was still some time for dinner, Harry joined the others around the Library table.

The conversation centered around his activities before his travels. Someone from the Daily Prophet had managed to tell Dumbledore about the dancing flames that Eclipse liked to play with. Putting eight and sixteen together, Dumbledore had got Harry. Of course, there was simply no-one else around who had demon blood and could control the fire imps.

A private interview from the hero of the First War was all it took for the wizarding public to turn against their darling Boy Saviour. The Ministry officials fanned the flames even more since they suspected that he'd somehow made off with the Ward Stone of the British MoM.

This particular Ward Stone, set in the foundations of the Ministry building, anchored the Wards of Britain to the land. This included Defensive Wards, Offensive Wards, Sensor Wards; name them, Britain had them. The Ward Stone also allowed the Secrecy Laws to hold between the Muggles and the Magicals. Since no muggle had as yet found Diagon Alley or Hogwarts or any other magical area, the Ministry was forced to assume that the Ward Stone had been re-anchored. But a Ministry with absolute control was no Ministry at all, and so they turned on their Order of Merlin, First Class holder, hoping that bad press (figuratively speaking, since the Quibbler was still singing Harry's praises) would push Harry Potter into humbly handing over the Ward Stone.

Except, when had Harry ever actually been humble?

The Simulacrum that had stayed behind to live in England had stepped up to plate, giving speeches left, right and center, all of them written by Hermione and proofed by Sirius. Harry tried his best to convince the wizarding public to employ their own brains for once and see that even without the MoM building, almost everything was working fine. In fact, the Auror Department had simply relocated at an undisclosed location to continue working under the able direction of the DMLE Head, Amelia Bones.

Hogwarts was still running efficiently and safety was a watchword everywhere. People could touch it, feel it, breath it; and yet the Minister blustered on the Wizarding Wireless about threats from Muggles, angering the Muggleborns, who were the main investors in the community. No one ever said Cornelius Fudge had two grey cells to rub together.

Matters, therefore, were rushed into the Wizengamot, where Harry was tried _in absentia_ by the whole court, presided by Supreme Mugwump A.P.W.B. Dumbledore. Since gaining the simulacrum's memories, Harry had been aware that the Wizengamot had exiled him from England to return on pain of death. Sitting now in his own Library with his family, Harry laughed at that. He was no longer afraid of death.

The next morning the staff at Hogwarts were woken by a loud banging on the front doors of Hogwarts. Many of them stumbled out of bed, pulling on dressing gowns and snatching up wands in haste, including Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall and Severus Snape. Standing at the door was none other than Harry Potter.

"Albus Dumbledore, I challenge you to a duel because I'm sick of being made the scapegoat of Britain. If I win, you will stay away from me and mine which I have detailed on this parchment." Here Harry pulled a parchment out of thin air and shook it open, handing it to Minerva. "If you win, I will leave England, but you must promise on your Magic and your Life to never let any harm come to those I leave here both during your life and after your death. Are we agreed?"

The professors gaped at him. "Now? At six in the morning?"

"You're all here, aren't you? Witnesses and challengers are both here, what else do you need?" Harry turned and walked away toward the Quidditch pitch. "If you don't fight me, you are essentially agreeing to forfeit in my favour and I win," he added casually, twirling his wand in his hand.

Dumbledore read through the conditions and signed them quickly. A blue light enveloped the Headmaster and the parchment which disappeared into thin air, only to appear before Hermione and Sirius at Potter Cottage. A Geminio Charm later, Sirius left to submit a copy of the challenge, together with its conditions, rules and acceptance at Amelia Bones' house.

The staff of Hogwarts watched in amazement as Harry wiped the floor with Dumbledore. Or the grass at the pitch. While he had agreed to not use his more special abilities in this duel, in the interest of fairness, that didn't stop him from over-powering all his spells by an extra third of their original power. And that was Harry being careful.

This left the Headmaster at an obvious handicap, however, since Harry's shield were as powerful as his offensive spells and left no room to out-maneuver the messy-haired young man. Getting desperate after 3 hours of exchanging spells, he switched to using more gray spells, which were not strictly Dark, hoping to catch Harry of balance.

No such luck.

With a curious twisting motion, Harry disarmed Dumbledore, snatching his wand out of the air with ease. His demon blood recognized the wand immediately as a Hallow like his father's invisibility cloak and Harry chose to keep it. What didn't defeat you made you stronger, after all.

"We're done here Headmaster. You will leave me and my family and friends ALONE. Because if you don't, I'll come for you." He smiled widely at the defeated man, twirling the Elder Wand, "And now I have this. So don't annoy me." Turning to the other professors Harry bowed. "Thank you for witnessing this event for me. The DMLE will have been notified of this by now, so its all above board and nobody is in trouble. Have a good year. Ta!" With that Harry disappeared in a flash of flame.

"Tippy!" he called out, landing in his personal wing at Potter Manor.

"Yes, master Harry? What can Tippy do for you?"

"Please have the bath ready for me. And a clean set of casual clothes. I'm expecting company here for dinner. So have Killy prepare some of her lovely dishes, please. Oh, and set up a few more rooms in the guest wing just in case people want to stay."

"Very good, Master. Tippy will see it done right away." The little elf popped away, no doubt to round up some of the other Potter house elves.

Harry disrobed and took off his shirt while walking into the bathroom. Hermione had managed to track down this guy with great difficulty and convinced him to come to England to help her research the reactive properties of Harry's blood, with the condition that he would be able to continue whatever experiments he was working on in Harry's own workshops.

Relaxing in his bath Harry wondered what was so special about this guy that Hermione would call in a Muggle Doctor from America, when she had help from Potions Master Severus Snape. It was the only reason why he'd agreed to meet the man. Maybe meeting Dr. Banner would be fun.


	15. Chapter 15

Gosh! The number of reviews for the last chapter was staggering … and damn good to see! My sincere thanks go out to **OregonDucks, Wulffe, ReadPaxJoy, xDarklightx, Lydia-Hood, Kairan1979, serialkeller, Adri1577, LordXeenTheGreat, and Gytrash1167.** It's fantastic to read your interest in this story.

WARNING: Character Death coming.

Time Skip Alert! Coming Soon!

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"You want to join us for a Quidditch scrimmage, Harry?" called Fred from the doorway. "All of us are heading out and Hermione has graciously agreed to keep the scores for us," continued George.

"Have not!" came the rejoinder from Hermione. "I'm heading out to Diagon Alley. I want to see if that new book on Arithmancy is out yet. See you later Harry, Bruce."

"Bye Mia. Ah, no thanks guys. I'm beat. Just going to enjoy some downtime here," replied Harry with a small shake of his head, as he slid into his favourite comfy squishy chair before the library fireplace.

The twins nodded and carried on, their overlapping voices continuing a conversation that seemed to have no beginning and no end in sight. Harry grinned tiredly as he sat before the lit fireplace in his library, a hand playing with a glass of amber liquid. The past two months had been a real mess of impromptu travel plans, dragon pee, hiding in exile from England in England, hunting, and getting poked and prodded by his family and friends. The man opposite him saw the light grin and his own lips lifted in response, before he went back to reading yet another book on this new strange society he had come to know.

It had taken a month of regular early morning visitations for the dragon bond to become solid. The dragon himself was growing quickly and Harry could even now feel the consciousness of Wyrd against his own, separate, yet not. In a few more months, the dragon's consciousness would be a permanent resident in his mind and vice versa, or so Nobert said. 'It would be pretty cool having another magical creature friend', Harry smiled, thinking fondly of Nyx, his Black Phoenix familiar that he had found in the rookeries of Peverell Manor.

Letting his head fall back against the couch head-rest, Harry wondered if Bruce was convinced of the absolute waste of time the past 2 months had been. Though he'd been interested with the 'mutation' evident in Harry's blood, he'd been unable to come up either a cure for his 'condition' or a logical reason for it. Hermione had taken pity on the bewildered scientist and explained to him under Oath, to satisfy the Statute of Secrecy, that magic was real and that Harry's blood was a actually the result of a fusion of three types of magical fluids, not counting the wizard's own magical blood.

Harry hadn't expected the man to be infected with the childlike glee of learning that he'd learnt to recognize in Hermione, but he'd readily opened his library for Bruce's reading pleasure. For the past month now, the magical residents of the house had spent hours explaining or demonstrating magic to mundane Dr. Bruce Banner. Well, except Harry, that is. The rules of magic no longer seemed to apply to him.

Talking to Tony again had been a piece of cake; the man had theatrically wined and dined the young Lord, even taking him to the opera to watch the Pirates of Penzance and manfully staying awake through the entire thing. Harry was only glad when it was over and he could be sure that there would be no embarrassing pictures in the morning tabloids. After all, Tony Stark was best friends with the trail of Paparazzis who followed him like Rita Skeeter on her best Harry-hunting day. Most amusingly, once Tony discovered he didn't have to traumatize himself with the opera, Harry had been dragged down to the basement to help the technical genius with his work on improving the Arc Reactor set up by Howard Stark as recompense.

Harry had kept his promise and told Tony and by extension Pepper everything about magic and the details of his own particular 'condition'. Instead of the fear he had expected, Harry had found himself besieged with questions from the hyperactive electrical genius, who was at the same time working on setting up JARVIS throughout his tower.

In the meanwhile, another Simulacrum had taken Harry's place at MIT, except that this one had a lot less of his personality and therefore was less likely to spontaneously combust on contact. Harry was able to cover all his classes and then some, wondering if Hermione had felt as washed out in their third year as he was feeling now. It was a rare occasion that he was able to sit in silence without having to rush off elsewhere in under 60 seconds.

But peace for Harry Potter never came home to roost. Or at least not for long.

A beep and buzz in his pants pocket brought him out of his reverie. The screen lit up with Hermione face and he accepted the call. Her voice was frantic as it came through, and he could hear explosions and screams behind her. "Harry? Harry! Oh thank Merlin you're alright. Things are getting crazy here in Diagon Alley. Some Ministry hardliners have incited the people against you. They're portraying you as some sort of rogue who can't keep his magic under control."

Harry had put the phone on speaker and sent word to the Quidditch players outside to assemble in the library at once. Meanwhile, a short pulse of energy resulted in his Simulacrum suddenly moving with single-minded purpose towards finding Tony Stark. Bruce marked his place in the book and listened intently as Hermione outlined what she had heard. It sounded that she had found a safe place, but Harry was already moving, summoning writing materials.

"They're pushing for your arrest now and many are demanding that you be inhibited from magic forever. I don't know how, but someone found out that you're staying at Potter Cottage and they're on their way now. Harry! You have to get out of there! I'll try to get out quietly and …"

"NO!" Harry stopped writing out a letter and uttered just that one word to ensure silence. "Hermione," he continued, "if you're close to Gringott's get in there and ask for Grimshaft. If not, you get out of Diagon Alley and get yourself lost in Muggle London. They know you're with me, so they will likely have a tracker on your magical signature. So don't use magic; don't even Apparate. Use mundane means and stay away from the major landmarks. Use the crowds. I will find you." There was silence over the line for a heartbeat. "Hermione! Do you understand? I will find you." He waited for a confirmation before telling her to get off the airwaves and hide.

Carrying on with his letter writing, he continued barking orders. "Dobby! Tippy!" the house-elves popped in looking fiercely serious. "Yes Master Harry?"

"I'm putting the entire family under the protection of Merlin's Apprentice." As Harry spoke, a white staff topped with a laurel appeared on the left sleeves of those present as well as their families. "Activate those wards at all the houses and don't forget Aunt Petunia. Make sure all the Weasleys are in the house before you activate the wards there. Fred, George!"

The twin redheads present jumped to attention. A Harry this focused was best not kept waiting.

"Here or the Burrow?" was all he asked.

They looked at each other and nodded. "Here Harry!" they chorused, grinning widely at Harry's slight smile.

"Tippy, tell Molly or Arthur or Bill that the twins have chosen to stay with us. Tell them that the Floo link to Potter Manor will remain open, despite what the Ministry does."

Turning, he held out two notes to Dobby. "I want you to deliver these to Grimshaft and Tony. Wait for a reply from Tony."

The elves popped away and Harry took a breath as he turned to face his house guest who in turn was watching him carefully. "What is happening here today is a delayed fallout of a series of political machinations and social concerns that have been simmering within the magical community of England for the past few years. Simply put, I scare them. As you are my guest, I apologize that you've unwittingly been caught up in this mess. I will get you out, but first I need to go get Hermione, and then we will be making a trip of our own. If I'm not back, Dobby will get you there."

Just then Dobby returned. "Mr. Tony sir has agreed Master Harry. He said to tell you to come straight to the third room next to the third floor lab. He will be waiting for you there."

Harry nodded and smiled at his friend. "Thank you Dobby. Go back to Malibu and activate the central and Apprentice wards for all my properties abroad. Just in case. Return here when that is done. If I am not back in a few hours take Doctor Banner to see Tony. Then wait for me at Stark Tower. Okay?"

"Dobby will do as Harry Potter sir says." He popped away.

Turning to look at his family, Harry looked to his godfather. "Take everyone to Potter Manor, Sirius, and hold the fort. Strip this place bare; no books, no furniture, no magical residue; leave nothing. I have a damsel in distress to rescue. Keep them safe. Nyx!" the Phoenix swept down from atop the highest bookshelf to Harry's shoulder. "See you in a bit." He grinned and disappeared in a pillar of flame.

Appearing in Hyde Park, Nyx took flight turning invisible to all but Harry, who took off into mundane London searching for Hermione's magical signature. Sending out short bursts of magical energy, he 'listened' for an echo from her magic which would effectively announce her presence. But though he searched for hours, walking and apprating all over mundane London, he didn't find her. With a crushing feeling of dread growing in his stomach, he apparated to The Leaky Cauldron and opened the wall portal.

The usually busy street was empty and silent, the shops closed and dark. Nyx came to sit on his shoulder, still invisible, giving him some warmth as he walked through the cold wraiths of his memories of this place. Where were the bright lights, the thronging crowds, the loud calls of vendors … where was the life that made Diagon Alley?

Lost as he was in his musings, Harry wasn't unaware of the stirrings in the dark. There, behind the post, under the porch hanging, inside the shop, on the roof even. Nyx and he both knew that the wall portal behind him had not closed after he passed through. As he walked further down the street and Gringott's came into view, the darkness thickened and was accompanied by the rustling of cloaks and the whisper of a thousand breaths on the still air. They seemed to be closing in on him, yet they did nothing, said nothing, instead choosing to watch and wait. For what, he did not know.

A tingle of magic passed over him; he became conscious of having stepped over some sort of boundary, a barrier, a cage. Testing it subtly, he flexed it and found it to be strong, but he knew it wouldn't hamper him much if he chose to leave. Besides he had Nyx, and there was nothing in any world of magic that could stop a phoenix from going where it chose. But why was there a cage at all?

A moment later, he screamed.

The skies overhead were ripped apart with the wild inhuman wail of the night phoenix. The shadows cowered in the street, as the phoenix sang of rage and pain.

Across the world, chatting amicably with Tony, the Simulacrum Harry gasped and dropped to the ground, mouth open in a silent scream as tears poured from its eyes.

A day's journey away, a young dragon roared in helpless pain, as the bond between him and his rider flared wide open with the fury and sorrow of his bond-mate.

Red-rimmed sloe black eyes opened onto a scene that Harry wished he could wipe away from his eyes and purge from his memory. There, barely a few feet away from the sanctuary that Gringott's would have been, tied to a Muggle stake reminiscent of the Salem trials, her body blackened and burned by the flames still simmering beneath her, was Hermione. Her tears made trails through the soot on her face, mixing with the blood that still flowed from a deep gash on her forehead. Even from this distance, he could see the livid blue-purple bruises on her face and body, darkened by the flames that burned her dignity to shreds. And all around, the darkness swelled and grew like a hungry thing, eager for its next meal.

But their quarry was endowed with a more ruthless intelligence that they who hunted him. They forgot the horrors he had already seen, the terror he kept leashed within himself; they sought only to bring down this monolith with the greatest possible pressure they could induce on his roots in order to make him fall.

And they had almost succeeded. Now was the time to break him. Now was the time to take him. Now was the time to show the world that even this strength had no real might. Eager to make of this once revered man an example to others who might want to challenge their usurping authority, the darkness surged forward, cutting off his view of his beloved, and unknowingly in the same move, breaking all the bonds to humanity he still had left.

The air had changed; everyone and their grandmother could feel the charge building in the air. They looked to the man they sought to destroy out of fear for themselves. With no visible warning, the figure, so broken in its grief a moment ago, now rose to its feet and kept rising. Huge black feathered wings broke forth from his shoulders and unfurled to their greatest extent, giving the figure his name; Eclipse, darkening the skies. Even as they watched, the wings enveloped him, burning in flames blacker than the darkest night. Then they heard a sound that chilled them to the marrows of their bones.

Treading air above them, Eclipse laughed. It was a melodic sound, slow and throaty, full of pleasure with a hint of madness.

"Ahh," came a sigh on the wind, "Such Power!" The wings unfurled to reveal Harry looking down at them. But now there was fear in their eyes as they realized he had changed.

His black hair had lengthened and flowed down his now bare back. A black dragon skull was tattooed on his chest, its horns flowing onto his shoulders. His eyes always black in this form were now dark pools of burning pitch. Both hands and feet had tuned into claws. And his wings … his wings were now the bat wings of a demon. And yet … while the curve of the wing was like a bat, the lower part was still formed of feathers. In response to the demon blood, Harry's Phoenix Hybrid form had changed.

He looked down at the assembled black robed horde. "You humans. You never learn not to anger those greater than you. To you mortals I am a god, for can you not die? By the Fallen! In all these centuries there hasn't been so powerful a mortal as this one. Ha ha ha ha! Still he fights for control of this body; yes, powerful indeed! And so strong a heart. It is an honour to champion this one. Yes indeed." His voice turned thoughtful.

"Little mortals, know this. You have the honour of facing Azazel, Fallen Lord of Hell. I will champion my host while he grieves for your stupidity and the loss of his beloved." Harry's face twisted into a feral snarl. "For such cruelty, you will pay with your lives," he whispered, the sound booming in the silence.

Another voice answered him, obviously using the Sonorous Charm to be heard by everyone. "For your crimes in the wizarding world, by Authority of the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Oswald Fudge, we place you, Harry Potter, under arrest on the charges of the destruction and wantonly pillaging the Ministry of Magic and for burning the premises of the Daily Prophet. And furthermore you are charged with the theft of the Ward Stone of Britain from the Ministry." Within the space of a heartbeat, during which Harry/Azazel had identified the speaker as Percy Weasley, the voice bravely continued. "Furthermore, since you remained unavailable for comment and unresponsive to all summons from the Wizengmot, you have been sentenced _in absentia_ to exile from the lands of Britain or 50 years in Azkaban. And as compensation for the loss of property suffered by the Ministry and the Daily Prophet, the Department of Rights and Approbations in Cases of Grievous Injury to Life and/or Property hereby confiscates all monies and artifacts in your vault at Gringott's. Having heard now these justices carried out upon you, you may choose to remain either in Azkaban or leave England. This decision is effective immediately and further infractions will see you in Azkaban irrespective of your personal choice."

An amused smile played on Azazel's lips, though his black eyes burned with the embers of a thousand flames. "How foolish you are, little mortals. You dare to defy this one that I choose to champion?" roared the demon.

Black eyes burning and wings unfurled to their fullest, impressive wingspan, Harry/Azazel opened his arms wide as a bank of storm cloud formed overhead. He reached up and drew two flaming spears from the eye of the storm as it circled and rumbled overhead like a playful puppy. Hot melting lava dripped off the tips of the spears, searing all that it touched. He could hear the wizards below shouting orders to the others to employ shield charms to protect themselves.

Azazel joined the spears into a single Blade Staff with a blade at either end and began whirling it above his head, sending a spray of lava all over the street. Cries of pain rose from the humans like sweet music to his ears as the lava was like a magical fire and could not be extinguished. The whirling staff drew the electric charge of the storm into its centrifugal force, winding it, tightening it, until it was stretched tight as a bowstring. With a beatific smile on his handsome face, Harry/Azazel reached up and twanged the storm-string.

The shockwaves that emanated from that simple gesture spread out in a conical shape, turning the nearest buildings to rubble, trapping and crushing those inside. The force of the blast dug into the ground, throwing up the cobblestones and dirt, adding to the storm's frenzy, while the lava turned the upturned ground to a heated black sludge.

Meanwhile, the Auror troops that Fudge had convinced to come and arrest 'Potter' had flanked the hovering figure, gauging their firing range and set up a perimeter for the civilians. Their orders had been to contain the target after he collapsed from grief, but this … facing down a demon wasn't what they were trained for. Come to think of it, they weren't sure why Hermione Granger had to be killed either. But they were following orders. Wasn't that right?

The Auror contingent finally shook off their shock and under the command of a panicked Minister, started returning spell-fire at Harry. High powered attacks flashed around the skies, each trying to land a crucial hit on the flame juggling demon. The Crushing, Blasting and Bone Breaking Hexes were the most favoured.

Azazel summoned a strong wind and made it grow in intensity before throwing it at the attackers. The Wind Blast spread out over the ground on impact and flattened everyone and everything, including what few structures were still standing. No-one had yet noticed that the Weasley Twins' shop was still standing unscathed.

"What do you hope to gain by trying your pitiful attacks? I am more powerful than all of you together." He held up a Blazing Bludger in one hand. "If you stop now, I will let you go to rebuild your lives in peace. If you persist in this fool's endeavour, I will have no choice but to kill you. My only goal here is the safety of my host. You are endangering him. Stop."

As another 'Bombarda' zipped past him, Azazel flung the flaming ball in the direction of the spell's source. It hit the ground with speed and burst into shrapnel-like pieces, inflicting wounds on all those in its radius. The next few minutes were a flurry of dodging, shielding and returning fire whenever the Auror guards were able to find an opening between the relentless balls of fire.

In the space of two hours, Diagon Alley no longer looked anything like its usual pristine welcoming self. There were craters in the road where the flaming Bludgers had impacted and fires had broken out and spread everywhere. The shops had turned to rubble in the first assault and were now being used as makeshift shelters for the wounded and the weak. Blood lay splashed on the broken road, bright red and shining under the late afternoon sun. The Minister and his escort were entrenched further up the road in a small Inn that had not yet been touched by the carnage, from where they watched the unfolding violence with the aid of Omnioculars.

At length, however, an order was passed down the ranks of the defenders and they took to it with renewing hope. Those Aurors who had fought in the Final Battle of Hogwarts knew most of Harry's capabilities and had had a chance to observe the Boy-Who-Lived closely. As expected of the war-hardened young man, the attacks up till now had been swift and powerful and the best they could do was to keep the civilians out of harm's way as much as possible, while returning what offensive fire they could. The Head Auror looked back at the staked figure. 'I am sorry, Hermione. It wasn't meant to be this way,' thought Kingsley with remorse. The only thing to do now was to end this fight. He passed the order to aim for Harry's wings and bring him down at all costs to cut his advantage and even the field. They hoped it would work.

Azazel had been thinking along the same lines. The pain of his host's dragon companion was getting difficult to ignore and soon the boy would fight harder to regain control of his body. While he pondered his next plan of attack, he noticed that the defenders below were firing too close to his wings for comfort, forcing him to either climb higher into the air or drop back to the ground. Madness shining in his expression, Azazel grinned; with both options, his advantage would still be greater. The humans adopted a cautious stance at his expression.

With a whisper of feathers, Azazel came down, softly touching the ground again. He extended his wings high up, reaching toward the storm energy with the tips. A crackling sound echoed as the energy of the storm washed down through the sleek black wings, building in intensity. The swirling shifting air hummed when the wind blew through his wings.

Azazels's voice rose above the hiss and snap of the electric charge. "The end comes now. Do you feel it coming, humans?"

With that, not giving the Aurors any more time to form an attack, he swept his wings down sharply, their sleek form whistling as they cut through the air. As they reached their lowest point, he flung himself backwards away from the electric attack he unleashed from his wings, throwing bright blades of pure energy into the ranks of the men and women defending the wizarding world from the man their Minister feared, cutting them down for no reason other than one man's obsessive need for political clout. The Wind Scythes swept through the defenders and managed to go as far as to hit the Inn where the Minister was cowering in fear. It would be discovered later that Percy Weasley lost his life in that attack.

That attack was the most devastating one yet, but it had the fortunate effect of removing the crowds of people from Azazel's sight, only for Harry to find himself looking at another that brought home to him the magnitude of his actions. With the speed of thought he moved to Hermione's side and gently helped her down from the bindings that held her. Rising with his precious burden in his arms, he swept up on blood red wings, a clear sign of the anger he was keeping in check. When he looked down at them and spoke, his eyes were clear of madness but his voice was filled with Power.

"You want me to leave because you fear me. You fear my Power and what I can do. Well, one might say I have proved you right today. But taking one of my family was a cowardly act and for that I cannot forgive you. Cornelius Fudge, your irrational fear and dereliction of duty towards the citizens of Magical Britain are what have led to this day. For years, either Dumbledore or the Ministry have tried to manipulate my life and got in the way of my choices. Today you have gone too far. If I so wish, I could perhaps help you to rebuild and regroup and make England strong again, but I find I have no more inclination to aid you in any way. I paid my dues to a morally corrupt society when I killed Voldemort for you. That is enough. So do this yourselves, people of magical England, but do not look to your Minister, for his life is at an end."

At Harry's words, the Minister, Cornelius Oswald Fudge was dragged out of his hiding place by an invisible power. Kicking and shouting as he was pulled forward, resistance was futile. He was brought him to the stake still standing there and was bound to it before he realized what was happening. Flames rose once again from the embers and the man screamed until he grew hoarse. The Aurors surged forward out of an automatic response but found they could not get close to him. Yet, after a while, the fires died down and the man stumbled out apparently unharmed. The crowds were baffled, looking back and forth between the Minister and Harry.

"Cornelius Oswald Fudge, by the authority given to me as the Apprentice of Merlin, you are hereby removed from your position as Minister. What you do henceforth with your life is up to you, but you are no longer part of the magical world." So saying, Harry turned to leave.

A jet of red light flew by him, having missed him by inches. "You selfish, traitorous brat! After all we've done for you, you're going to break this country down and leave us helpless before the Muggles? Turn them on your own kind? What kind of hero are you?"

Harry turned to look at the former Minister, who was now looking for an opening to hit Harry himself. Everyone else had backed away and were tending to the wounded, not wishing to get involved any further in this ego war.

In a calm voice harry replied, "As I released you of your position, I now strip you of your magic." A bright cloud of yellow light condensed around Fudge at those words before dissipating into the ether. "Cornelius Fudge, your Wand is broken." The portly man's wand shattered in his hand, sending splinters flying. "You are no longer part of this world. Its concerns are no longer yours to resolve. Leave and find a better life."

Harry turned to Kingsley; the veteran Auror was still alive and standing. "The Ward Stone of Britain is safe. Safer than it was here. It is on a property that no-one other than my house-elf or I can locate. I have placed some of my own enchantments on it and I assure you, the Secrecy Laws and the Defensive Wards are all intact. Nothing has changed." He turned away as he continued quietly. "But I am leaving. Goodbye Kingsley, and good luck."

With a mighty flap of his wings, Harry shot into the darkening skies and was soon invisible to all eyes. Once far enough away, he twisted in the air and apparated to Potter Manor.

The family that had been watching and waiting for Harry's return was alerted by a house-elf the moment he landed in the gardens. None of them were shocked by his less than human appearance. But then they saw who he was carrying in his arms and shock flashed across their faces, unwilling to believe the evidence of their eyes. Remus and Tonks quickly rushed forward to take Hermione from Harry. Head falling to his chest, Harry slumped to ground, staring blankly at the dewy grass, his wings curled around him, shielding him from the world. Sirius knelt beside his godson, a hand on his shoulder, anchoring him to this world, and Harry burst into tears.

For a long time they knelt there in the grass under the stars, even after everyone had gone inside and prepared Hermione's frail body for her last journey. Remus came out to say simply, "Harry … it is time."

The earth shook beneath their feet. The grounds of the Manor would show the extent of the upheaval in the morning; trees torn from their roots, flowerbeds uprooted, deep cracks running through the land and all of them outward from where Harry now stood. "No." He turned and strode into the Manor, walking unerringly into the private living room where they had laid Hermione. With a gentle hand, he cupped her face and bent to place a kiss on her forehead. "I'm sorry I'm late Hermione. We'll have you back soon. Just hang on."

He bade the others stand back against the walls of the room and put up a shield that would hold them there while he worked. Coming around to stand at Hermione's head, he unfurled his demon wings with a slight flex and covered her body with them, hiding her completely from their anxious sight. Inside the protection of his wings, Harry let his demon blood take over.

Azazel knew what his host wanted was an easy enough task for him to accomplish, but the price of this task was not something he was sure his host realized. But he had no choice; he could already feel the magic gathering in his body to do his will. He pressed his forehead to the cold one of the girl before him and chanted quietly in the old tongue. It was a language never heard on earth for centuries until today. The task itself was simple, he had to find the girl's spirit from among the dead on the field and bring her back with the lure of magic to her own body. Spirits were always starved for magic and this one would be more so since she had been a witch in life. Azazel dove into the murky depths of Hades to find Hermione Granger's spirit.

To those who watched from the sidelines, all they could see was a crimson glow seeping out from under the huge satiny wings hiding Harry and Hermione.


	16. Chapter 16

You must forgive me for being so late on updates for this story. There were some unavoidable things going on that rather affected my creative spirit and I just could not find the way forward in this story. I do hope that with the previous chapter, you will allay my fears about this. I really do intend to continue cooking up enjoyable chapters.

To all my readers; I cannot express what relief I felt when I read your generous reviews. It was a real pleasure to be able to write something that you liked so much, especially after my unexpected hiatus. I thank you for continuing with this story. I will be putting up further chapters as soon as I can write them out.

A very special mention to **Himawari-no-Ichizoku:** I love your responses! Absolutely love them! Thank you for being so excited about my story, coz now I'm even more excited about it myself! Hope you like this chapter. *wink wink*

And a big shoutout to my other reviewers: **nim istar, Fiction Fanboy, Eros Amor Black, serialkeller, blackcallalily, Snow-Nightshade, ReadPaxJoy, **and** emthereble** for sending me your thoughts and comments even though I've been late on the update. My sincere apologies. It gives me great joy to know that you're all still reading this story. Again, thank you. And I hope you like this chapter. *smile*

Diabolical Warning: Extremely short chapter. Just coz I'm evil. Ha ha ha ha ha!

Keep Reading! Keep Reviewing!

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"Will somebody tell me exactly what is going on?"

"Sorry Tony, I'm waiting for an update myself. And as I haven't been sent any more information, I'm as much in the dark over this as you."

Tony hummed at the simulacrum's response, energetically pacing the length of the room they were in. A pop announced the arrival of two expected guests and brought him to a halt. "Dobby is bringing Master Harry's friend, Mr. Stark, sir," announced the elf with a bow.

"Doc Banner, I presume? I'm Tony Stark." Tony strode towards the bewildered doctor with a grin. "I admit the instant transportation used by young Dobby here can be a little jarring for the uninitiated." He pumped the other man's hand firmly. "Though I trust you got here safely?" he asked, addressing both the man and the elf.

Gingerly shaking out his hand and rotating his shoulder after the vigorous handshake from the enthusiastic inventor, Bruce Banner told Harry's story as well as he could, with inputs from Dobby. The simulacrum entered the room as he spoke and though Bruce had been informed of the Harry-double that stayed with Tony Stark, he was unprepared for the amazing twin-like resemblance facing him. Harry winked at him, but didn't interrupt his story.

"So, let me get this straight," Tony paced the length of the room as he spoke, "Harry was involved in a political battle with the Ministry of Magic for being stronger than they are because they are afraid of him. And they used Hermione to lure him in. But you got out early enough that you don't know how it ended. Did I miss anything?"

"Not at all, Mr. Stark," replied the quiet doctor. "But I think we will have to wait for Mr. Potter himself to inform us whenever he has finished dealing with the current state of affairs."

Tony looked at Dobby who shook his head, ears drooping. He took a deep breath and straightened rubbing his hands together, "Well then, I trust Harry will keep his arse out of trouble. And alert us should anything happen." He took Bruce by the arm and steered him out of the room. "So, Doc, I hear you're something of a scientist. Wanna see candy land? Dobby here can settle your room for you."

The simulacrum and the elf watched in amused silence as the doctor was dragged away in limp resignation by the resident genius of Stark Tower. Only after the pair were out of shouting distance did Dobby give Harry a vial and a meaningful look, before bowing once and popping away.

* * *

Over in a cave high up in the mountains, Wyrd was explaining his experiences to his parents. The sensations he had felt through his bond with his bond-mate were disturbing and complicated. He could not understand why Harry was so distressed; human emotions were so difficult to comprehend.

Nobert, on the other hand, felt a connection with the young human that his son was bound to. There was no malice in that heart, no fear, and no deceit. Yet, the mixed blood in his veins had been charged with his grief, over-powering his self-control and giving him the means for destruction. The great dragon was sure that Harry would not have acted that way unless he had been pushed into a corner. The lad was a Protector and as the Apprentice, he would have a deeper understanding of the value for life. Then again, how far would his nobility be affected by the Demon blood running through his veins? Nobert snorted, dark smoke curling up from his nostrils. He hoped the boy would heal. In the meantime, there was little he could do except teach young Wyrd of the ways of a Star Dragon and wait for the return of his Rider.

* * *

Who knew the skies could be so cold or the winds so bitterly freezing. Storm clouds rumbled and clashed. Lightning flashed overhead casting pale slashes of light on the sombre scene below. Trees shook and creaked and moaned, bowing before the untameable fury of the storm. And then came the rain. Cold and torrential. Driven across the land by the strong force of the gale that uprooted trees and roared against the doors and windows, shrieking down chimneys, and demanding entry. It was all one could do to the huddle close to the fires, bundled up in layers upon layers of as much warm clothing one had or could conjure.

It had been a week.

It had been a long cold week. Stretching bleakly on forever into a future no-one could see; no-one wanted to see.

A week filled with the silence and shock and disbelief.

A week devoid of any joy, or even any hope of its return.

A week before the last person gave up hope.

A week before they found themselves looking down at the green earth ready to cover the resting place of a brave, loving young soul.

But none present mourned more than a young girl, Harry's age, her brown eyes wet with tears that traced her cheeks and brown hair bound carelessly back, making her drawn face look pale and bloodless.

Hermione Granger wept at the memory of her best friend and with the pain of his loss stabbing her heart. He had bought her life at the price of his own and so she cried, unheeding of the presence of those that shared her grief, lost in the haze of remembrance of a smile that was now lost to her forever.

The first few hours had been a shock. With her last memory being that of being burnt at the stake alive, surrounded by an angry, surging mob, looking into the smug, portly, pasty face of the Minister for Magic, while she screamed her throat raw from the pain and humiliation until her throat bled and the soot from her own charred flesh choked her and burnt her eyes.

The ceremony was short and the Potter family elves kept off any and all reporters, including Rita Skeeter, from intruding on their private moment with the judicious use of wards. Harry had been laid to rest next to his parents in the cemetery at Godric's Hollow. The only gift his family could give him now; to reunite him with his family. Nyx sat on Hermione's shoulder, lending the distraught girl her silent support. Sirius and Petunia stood beside her, a hand on either shoulder, offering her some measure of comfort. In was near noon when she finally stirred and allowed them to guide her back to Potter Mansion. They gave her a Sleeping Draught, tucked her into bed and helped her slip off to sleep, hoping that she would be better after a rest.

The other residents of the mansion and the guests milled about or rested in the parlours for what comfort they could find in the peace of the Mansion. The black-haired young man was at the fore-front of everyone's thoughts; his life a legacy of love and selfless sacrifice for all others that he could save. It was no surprise to any of them present when Draco Malfoy raised a toast to Harry Potter.

A relationship that started out in bitterness had turned over the many years to one of mutual respect and brotherhood. The blond boy had but lately returned to England from France where his mother was undergoing treatment for her ill-health. To return to the funeral of one of the few men he respected and depended on was a grievous blow to the stoic young man.

Sirius and Remus drank to Harry keeping a watchful eye on the younger generation. When the summons had been sent out, they had not expected quite so many to turn up, but the response had been more than satisfactory. Practically every one of them was closely connected to Harry in some way. It would take a while for any of them to heal and move on with their lives.

Presently Tippy announced dinner and the adults started coaxing everyone into the Dining Hall. It had been arranged that everyone would stay for 3 days before going back to their normal lives. Sirius led the way and asked Killy if she would personally make sure that Hermione got a plate of dinner whenever she got up. The little elf nodded solemnly and popped away having laid the table with several delicacies, many of which were Harry's favourites. Dinner was silent and conversation stilted and everyone soon broke up in favour of turning in to sleep early. The Weasley twins showed everyone to their rooms before joining the other refugees from Potter Cottage in the library.

"Is it finished?"

"Yes. … Yes I believe it is. We should know soon."

"How long will it take?"

"Can't say. It hasn't really sunk in for people yet."

"Should we notify anyone?"

"No. no-one else must know. Not yet. We will just have to wait and see what the future will bring."

The occupants of the library sat around in silence. Then the twins rose and bid everyone a "Good night", and slowly, the others being brought out of their stupor, decided to get some sleep too. As Remus walked Petunia up to her room, he looked back at Sirius sitting before the fireplace, staring contemplatively into the flames. Sirius was right; it was not yet time.


	17. Chapter 17

Ah! Quite a varied response to my previous chapter. I was quite unable to help myself. My apologies to everybody who was offended. But I do intend to make it up to you, hopefully with this chapter. I do thank you all for being so candid, though. Most invigorating.

As always, a big thank you to every who reviewed – **Himawari-no-Ichikozu, Eros Amor Black, serialkeller, ReadPaxJoy, ALUCARD, blackcallalily, Thorndsword,, ArthurB, getlostD91, Lycan01, ThomasNealy and HP-DG-SB-HA-RR-KB-NT-TD-LL-AJ.**

A longer chapter and explanations to follow. Good? Not? Do review!

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All Divine beings, whether they be residents of Heaven or Hell, have several Powers that they use as their whims move them. Mutability is a playground for them to practice but never perfect, to make but never unmake, to destroy but never annihilate. They have many names and the many civilizations that lived through the centuries each called the same beings by different names, ascribing to them different Powers. These beings created the skies and the creatures and moulded man. They even created Magicke long ago and gave it to the safe-keeping of certain kinds of creatures and certain humans, from among the many they had already created on the Earth.

But to the eye of the Divine, the passage of a decade is but the blink of an eye and a century while long, takes no shorter time to pass. The Lords with their Powers for Good and Evil had always vied against each other and used their creations as pawns on the chessboard of the world. Once, long ago, tired of the spreading Darkness on the lands that were once simple and wholesome, Magicke was given to the world and with it its chief Herald, Myrrdin Emrys, to push back the darkness and bring back life with all its joys and sweetness and simplicity.

And under Emrys, the lands did change, being gradually purged of much that was wrong. People and creatures alike began to turn back to the Light and loved it for all its goodness. The Dragon Riders were hailed and loved everywhere they went and Peace reigned in the world. All seemed right again.

But that was until there entered, several generations later, one who was sent in the old age of Myrddin, to tease the living beings back to taste the flavours of the night. To make the night as bright as the day, so as to confuse the simple folk into thinking that there was nothing more to fear. That once illumined, night was as good as day, if not better. The race of men was seduced by that famed seductress, Morgana le Fay, and lead away from the Light.

Emrys, now known as the famous Merlin, fought her when and where he could and his magic was powerful. But his days were at an end, even for one of his race of men with longer spans of life than normal humans. And so he resolved to put all his magic in his staff, made it sentient, and entrusted it to the care of his godson, Gaele Gryffindor to be given to its rightful owner at the age of manhood, for Merlin's own son was but a child still.

And so it was that when Nimue imprisoned Merlin by her arts, he had neither the will nor the means to fight back and went almost willingly to his long sleep, in a chamber that has never been found again in this world. But the child, Paladin Vale, grew to be like his father and together with his brother-in-arms, Godric Gryffindor and his sister Helga, he fought magic with magic and stood firm against the enemies of the Light until the day that his daughter survived him at the gates of Hogwarts and fled with her father's Staff back into the depths of the castle.

The Power of the Demons grew stronger since that day, always warring, never resting, until the Light had almost left the living lands. The one they called the Devil roamed freely among the people, changing their very natures, subverting their desires, brightening up the night again, whispering in their ears, calling, coaxing, charming, cajoling, enticing, inviting, luring them in, like so many fish on their invisible lines, so that in the end they were but marionettes who believed they were acting on Free Will, when it no more existed.

To give them their most well known names, Heaven and Hell both were known to several levels and strata of Power according to hierarchy. It was to one of the highest level of Power that Azazel belonged. Being a Greater Demon, created from Night and birthed from blood and horror, he had existed for eons, watching, observing, and occasionally participating in the events of the world out of boredom. But when he did, the results were always terrible. Just ask the hundreds turned to ash in Pompeii.

But Azazel had one weakness. One. He fell in love with an Angel.

The Divine realms were shaken as though a hurricane had passed through them when knowledge of this union became known. And the Angel whom Azazel loved, was banished to furthest reaches of the world where Heaven and Hell bent to meet, and her name was Forbidden, and later forgotten by all except Azazel. Through his angel, the demon learned to feel emotion, to care for someone other than himself. And eventually, even though he remained a Greater Demon, he refrained from needless killing and slaughter.

Such a being it was that was summoned and captured by Voldemort in the last year of the War of Freedom, and whose blood ran in the veins of the Saviour of the Wizarding World.

It was Azazel's blood that changed Harry Potter, making him stronger and faster, granting him the ability to do greater feats of magic than had ever been possible before. And knowing that the boy had not willingly taken demon blood into himself, Azael watched over him, a distinctly paternal affection building in him towards the Boy-Who-Had-The-Worst-Luck-In-The-World.

So it was that Azazel took over Harry's body in the time when he called forth Hermione Granger's pure soul, knowing that the Old Law said – 'an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a life for a life'. It was the only time he and his host came in direct, conscious contact as individual beings. A plan was made and quickly executed. Under the cover of huge satiny wings, Harry Potter breathed his last to let Hermione Granger return to life.

* * *

Sirius and Remus had the worst possible week waiting for news of the outcome of a demon's experiment. They made the Weasley twins extremely nervous with all their agitated pacing around the library and sitting room. No-one dared to go out on the full moon that week since the grounds were taken over by a werewolf worried about his cub and a harried Grim who had to keep the wolf in line.

Then the letter arrived.

"Sirius! SIRIUS! Get down here you lazy mutt! Or I'll set the twins on you!"

"Pipe down, Moony! What's all the fuss about?" queried Sirius, yawning and rubbing his tummy.

Flanked by the twins, who had by now assembled the rest of the house guests in the kitchen, Remus shook a rectangle piece of paper in the sleepy Animagus' face. "We have a letter, Padfoot. Focus."

Sirius blinked. In a flash, he plucked the letter out of Remus' hand and bounced off to the library, the others in hot pursuit. Placing the letter on the lectern he tapped it with his wand and sank back into the nearest sofa chair as the letter began to read itself.

_Sirius, Remus, and anybody else who decided to stay while these two went stir-crazy,_

_I hope the Manor is still standing._

_Okay, alright, I'll get on with what you want to know._

_I am safe. I know that is what you all want to hear first, so there it is. I am back in the flesh, in the land of the living, and more in tune with magic than ever._

_I do have a message from a mutual friend from Hell. He says, as do I, thank you, for your prompt actions on that fateful night. Had it not been for your quick thinking and open-minded acceptance of Azazel, I would not have been able to find my way back. Ironic really, since I, unlike others, actually had a way back. Anyway, as I know you are all waiting with bated breath and conjure popcorn – I know you have it, Fred and George – I think its time I tell you what really happened. Do pass this letter along to Hermione when you finish. She will need to know what follows._

_I'm sure you all understood that what happened to Hermione was my fault. No matter what anyone else says, and despite your guilt, Hermione, at my passing, what happened at Diagon Alley was my fault; a retaliation as a direct result of my actions. I put you in danger, no-one else. Your life, therefore, was as much my responsibility as your death._

_Fortunately, the unique chemical mixture that is my blood has the property of allowing the resurrection of the soul, provided the death was recent, which means the Soul would not have gone too deep into the Light, and that the soul was strong in life. From what Azazel told me, the souls of magic users are easier to find because each Soul has a bit of magic in it, and that acts as a beacon to anyone who is capable of locating and bringing back the soul. Which is precisely what Azazel, through my blood, was able to do for Hermione that night!_

_Bringing me back, on the other hand was a piece of cake. Because I had what most people don't need. A Simulacra I had created myself, with my own magics and blood and memories. Azazel was able to quite simply transfer my soul into the Simulacra and bind it in place with regular doses of Blood magic by infusing amounts of my blood which you collected that night, into the body. And voila! I'm back!_

_If you're wondering why, if it as so easy to bring me back, did it take an entire week for this letter to get to you, I will tell you that too. Its quite simple really. Coming back from the dead is exhausting and my body needed the rest to let the blood magic do its work. Plus, Azazel gave me an earful when I did try to get up on day 2. And let me tell you, you do not want a Greater Demon angry with you. Ever._

_Well, that's the end of my news. Dobby says 'Hi!' to everybody. And the good doctor has been made off with by Tony. Haven't seen him yet, but he told Dobby he would come visit as soon as he could. Which if Dobby's reports are to be taken for fact, means that I will have to go and meet with them both myself. And probably pull them out to actually eat food again._

_Padfoot and Moony, I hope to see you again as soon as I can get away. I hope the twins like their rainbow raincoats; they do match their personalities._

"Thanks Harry!" the twins cat-called, proudly wearing their raincoats, the violet clashing violently with their orange hair.

_My love to Hermione, my best and closest friend, and dear Aunt Petunia. Be well and stay safe, and do try not to worry so much over poor me. _

_See you soon,_

_Harry._

There was a POP and both Weasleys present had suddenly grown long flowing white beards reminiscent of Professor Dumbledore. In their flamboyant rainbow robes, they actually looked the part, right down to the pince-nez that had appeared perched on their noses, and the matching, heeled, pointy shoes on their feet.

"I say, old chap, you look frightfully like this fellow I once knew."

"I do look quite handsome, thank you very much."

"No, no, no, I look handsome, you look frightful."

"You did say 'frightfully like'."

"Who?"

"You!"

"Like you! I knew you would come around."

"Well, I am standing in your shoes, after all."

"Yes, fit quite well, don't they, you handsome fellow."

"Absolutely splendidly, twin of mine."

"Who were you talking about though, Gred?"

"Dear Headmaster Dumbledore, of course, Forge."

"Good man, Dumbledore. Wonder how long these will stay on."

"Rather luxuriant, these, yes."

"It's a good chance for a re-enactment of the battle of the Beards."

"Well I'm Blackbeard, and you can be Davy Jones."

"It's a beard, not tentacles."

"Are you a wizard or not?"

"Most assuredly, brother."

"Onward then."

"Exit starboard deck."

The Marauders and Petunia stared at the two as they disappeared in the direction of the Manor grounds, discussing the finer points of whatever battle they were talking about. They shared glances and shrugged; who knew what was going on in the twins' minds at any given time? Killy popped in to tell them that breakfast was ready, and they trooped back to the family dining room, where Killy had already set out a fine spread.

"Well, everything is fine now. But what happens now to the Ministry?"

"That is for the DMLE to decide now. As the law enforcement arm of the Ministry, they will have to not only keep the order among Wizarding England, they will also have to ensure that the Wizengamot is able to be up and running and a new Minister is voted into position soon. Hopefully, they will be so swamped with everything that has happened, that they will not think to look at Harry at all."

"We can only hope, Sirius. And I would suggest, Petunia, that until all of this blows over, you should stay here. Your family will be in no danger because they haven't been in contact with Harry for years now, and it is a well known fact that there has never been any love lost between them. That should keep them out of the Ministry's eye. But you must stay safe and the safest place is any of Harry's properties dotting the countryside, except that we stay here and we love having you stay with us."

Petunia laughed. "Remus, I'm not surprised to see that Sirius has finally rubbed off on you. I don't recall you being quite such a smooth talker all those years ago." She smiled as Sirius looked smug and Remus' cheeks pinked. "But I accept your suggestion to stay, though I would feel better if you could put up some wards around the property up in Privet Drive."

"No problem. And as a special bonus, we'll set up something Marauder-ish too. Come on, Moony. We got work to do," Sirius pushed himself away from the table and walked off waving a piece of toast in the air.


End file.
